Bluffs, Encounters and Calls 6th in the FS Series
by Ms-Maggs
Summary: GS,NOC,GrOC,CW,Br. Sara throws a party. But when the party's over, the night and the morning after are full of suprises. Complete
1. Default Chapter

**Note: Only the first 2 chapters of this installment were ever posted on this website previously. So this is new material unless you've accessed it through my homepage since the story was pulled on 4/13. Chapters 3 and 4 have now been edited to comply with the rules of this website.(Originally FS 63-71)**

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**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

"**In the Bluff – Part 1"**

**August 19, 2005 (Day 119)  
****San Marino, California  
****The Sanders Home  
****9:15 p.m. Friday **

Bev had been home from Vegas for several hours, but due to a dental emergency her husband was treating, she hadn't seen or spoken to him yet. The delay was fine with Bev, however, because it gave her time to decompress and plan her strategy.

In the sunken tub in her luxurious bathroom, Bev enjoyed the fragrant Jasmine bubbles popping around her while sipping from her glass of crisp Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio. But the delightful wine and relaxing bath weren't what was soothing her the most. No, it was the memories of a wonderful visit with her son and the woman she was certain would eventually be his fiancée…hopefully before she looked like she swallowed a bowling ball.

Bev's confidence was based not only on her ability to read her son's mind, but also the fact that Tawny shared Greg's written list of fantasies with her yesterday. A little voice whispered inside her head…be honest, you know _shared _is a bit of an exaggeration. It was true, she confessed to her guilty conscience. While Tawny was napping I went snooping and stumbled upon it BUT it was the teacher in me that had me open Tawny's Algebra notebook…I wanted to check her work…okay, that's not exactly true either, I wanted to verify she really did have a brain as impressive as her boobs.

Never one to dwell on the unchangeable, Bev reconciled it didn't matter _how_ she acquired the information it was wonderful news just the same.

"Bev?" Scott called out as he entered their bedroom suite.

"I'm in the tub!" She hollered back before polishing off her wine. "How did it go?"

"Welcome home, Honey." Bending down he slipped his hand behind her neck and warmed her lips with a kiss. "I missed you." Smiling from the exchange, he stood up untucking his navy polo shirt from his khakis and releasing a blissful sigh.

"I missed you too," She sweetly replied, always a little amazed how much his kiss could still do to her after thirty-five years of marriage. "Now tell me how it went."

"Baseball to the mouth. It was nasty. Two reimplantations with splinting." He tossed the shirt then ran his fingers through his meticulously groomed short brown hair. "But Charlie will be fine…thanks to my amazing skill."

"I've always admired your humility, Dear," She quipped while kicking back in the tub. "And how was Katie?" Katie Dwyer, wife of Dr. Michael Dwyer, top PlasticSurgeon in town and big spenders at the country club. She was Hollywood-obsessed and always gushing over her jock son, Charlie's movie-star good looks. He was a twenty-six year old med student at UCLA who had earned his Bachelor's on a full tennis scholarship and every time he showed up at the club he had a different buxom blonde on his arm.

Chucking the last of his clothes, Scott replied, "Katie was hysterical but, after assuring her Charlie would still be a babe-magnet worthy of the hottest Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, I managed to calm her down."

"I bet," She guffawed. "You know the woman adores you because she thinks you look like Dennis Quaid." In actuality he looked like Dennis Quaid's slightly older but more handsome brother, not that she'd pump her husband's already enormous self-confidence by telling him. Splashing the water she snickered, "So…I see you've tossed your clothes. Are you thinking about going for a swim?" She could tell from his heavy tan lines that he had spent a plethora of time on the golf course in her absence.

It had been a while since Bev was away from home and now that she was back, Scott was looking forward to a little quality time. "You want to come out to the pool with me or were you thinking of me joining you in there?"

"I'm not going anywhere and, since I have a lot of new information about your son, I think you'll stay." She slid to the far side and waited for him to take his usual spot across from her.

"I suppose we can't avoid this any longer." Bracing himself for the final confirmation of his son's homosexuality, he asked, "First uh…where's the bottle of wine that was filling your glass earlier?"

"In the mini fridge." She forced her lips not to smile as her husband opened a cabinet door and grabbed the Pinot Grigio. "There's an extra glass on the counter…I had a feeling you'd want some. Fill mine too, please."

"That doesn't bode well." One glass was the norm, two glasses meant she was trying to relax, if you got to three there was definitely something going on. "How many have you had?"

"Two." Really she only had one but she new he'd be more tense if he thought she was going on her third.

With the bottle in hand he stepped into the tub, immersing himself and reaching for her glass. "Okay, just give it to me straight up." Then he realized the irony of the statement. "I've had a couple of weeks to deal with it since you told me you were 99 percent sure that Greg was getting serious with a guy." When she broke the news after one of her usual Monday calls with their son, she said it was the only explanation she could think of for Greg's erratic secretive mood. "It's not what I wanted for my son but if he's happy…"

Bev calmly sipped her wine while her husband waxed on.

"…and it's not the lifestyle. You know Chuck is a good friend of mine and I've been golfing with him and his partner for years. It's…I know how much you wanted grandbabies one day…a granddaughter in particular. And as much as I harp on Greg for not being responsible enough sometimes, I always envisioned him eventually settling down one day and starting a family…bringing his kids over and watching you spoil them rotten was something I looked forward to enjoying."

The irony of his statement almost cracked her straight face as she thought…you're going to get your wish granted sooner than you'd like.

Pausing, Scott gulped down half the golden contents of his glass. "Okay…I'm ready to mourn the dream. Give me the scoop. The good stuff first. There is good stuff right?"

"They're living together." And let the game begin, she inwardly chuckled. Yes, the plan was working as perfectly as she thought when she first outlined it to Greg weeks earlier. "I spent a lot of time over there with them."

"Living together already? That's fast. Well, I guess we really don't know how long it's been going on so…" He took another gulp. "At Greg's place?"

"Yes."

"I guess his partner doesn't earn much of a living either or they wouldn't be living in that tiny place." He sank a little further in the tub. He at least hoped the guy was a successful professional who could positively influence his wacky son.

"Greg's _significant other_ is in the midst of a career change so…"

"No job!" Scott reached for the bottle while he polished off his glass. "My god, if Greg is the _responsible one_ in the scenario, now I'm concerned. I can accept Greg is gay, but I'm having a hard time accepting he's the mature one of the duo." Grasping for straws, Scott hesitantly inquired, "Not to sound shallow but, what about looks? Do they uh…look good together?"

"A total hottie…_huge _chest," She declared with enthusiasm. "Ooozes sexuality and always turns an eye in public for being so…I guess you could say…pretty."

"So that makes Greg what? Is he the guy in the relationship or the…" The wine glass was at his mouth again.

"Greg definitely wears the pants." The ruse was a tad cruel but, she was enjoying it immensely.

The picture was a little more than Scott was ready to handle. An unemployed muscle-bound pretty-boy who _Greg_ bossed around. "What about personality? Sense of humor? Because you know even though I always tell our son he has to be more serious about _certain_ things, I'd hate for him to ever lose his charm…which we both know he gets from you."

"An utterly hilarious character at times!" Bev cracked a smile since they were talking about humor. "Gives Greg as much shit as I do."

"Well…that's something. And you're sure it's serious?" He asked, hoping there might be a chance Greg could still bat for the opposite team in the future.

"I heard them exchange _I love yous_," Bev wistfully replied.

"Oh." A little overwhelmed, Scott asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"One thing." Sliding around to sit at her husband's side, she looked him in the eye and said, "I was wrong about Greg's love interest being a guy. **_Her_** name is Tawny Ann Cooper, she's twenty-two, stunning, smart and charming. She's his dream girl. They're crazy about each other and I'm nuts about her too."

"What?" He gawked at his wife. "So you went there and instead of confirming your suspicions that Greg was gay, you found out he was acting weird because he met his dream girl? Why would he be secretive about _that_?"

She grinned, congratulating herself for a job well done. "He was afraid you would be upset to find out they decided to live together after only knowing each other a month…he thought you'd think it was a flighty thing to do. So he was trying to put off telling us until they were together longer."

In comparison to living with a guy and not producing grandkids in the distant future, living with a girl after only knowing her a month suddenly didn't seem like that bad of a situation. "Wait a minute." Still playing catch up he chided, "So this whole time we've been talking you let me think…" Her smirk was annoying him to no end. "You were _bluffing_!"

"Hey, I just came from Vegas…a town where bluffing rules."

"And now you're back in California…an ocean state, where people drown all the time." With that he playfully dunked his wife under the bubbles and while she was under, he launched a sigh of relief.

"My boy _finally_ got a girl." When Bev emerged, her hair sopping with bubbles, Scott excitedly asked, "So…where did she go to college? Where did they meet? What about her family? Is she a responsible girl? Someone who will help Greg settle down, perhaps? Twenty-two is a little young but…that's probably a good thing for Greg because she won't want to settle down and have kids for years, which will give him plenty of time to get his act together and save up for a house. Hey…how are her teeth?"

Bev fielded the easy one. "A naturally perfect set of chompers. Brushes three times a day and flosses nightly."

"Fantastic! Sounds like a _very _responsible girl to me," He relaxed against the marble, thrilled his dream for a future Sanders generation was back on. "Now answer the rest of my questions. I want to know everything about her. Damn, now I'm kicking myself for not going to Vegas with you! Did you invite her to come out for Labor Day? I mean if they're living together, he plans on bringing her, right?"

"Yes, indeed." Her grin intensified when she saw the happiness returning to her husband's eyes.

"Excellent! Wow…Greg must be thrilled with the idea of having girl on his arm for the club festivities. Funny timing because if he came without someone this year, newly divorced Becca would have been available. I bet he would have been tripping all over himself again around her. Well, maybe now she'll realize she should have given our boy a shot. Sanders men mate for life…isn't that right, Honey?"

"That's right." She melodically replied before teasing, "It's the Hojem women who fool around."

"I remember that well from before we were married." Scott relaxed further into the bubbles. "I'm dying to meet the girl who finally gave my boy a chance. She must be a really _sweet_ to put up with some of his quirks."

"She's so sweet her favorite food is Krispy Kreme donuts…and **_your son_** was so crazy about her, when they first met, he bought them for her every day for two weeks."

"What?" The horror on his face reflected his shock. "Greg should have known better than that! And the girl...doesn't she know what they do to your teeth? What other bad habits does she have?"

"Honey…" Bev, not ready for the next round of questions and subsequent deflections, snuggled up to her man. "I know you said you missed me but, did I tell you how much I missed you while I was away? Wait…maybe I should show you." And in a stealthy effort to shut down her husband's curious mind she began distracting him.

"Is this another bluff?" If he had waited a second longer he wouldn't have had to ask. "Okay, we'll talk later."

**Las Vegas Crime Lab  
****Grissom's Office  
****11:04 p.m. **

Sitting at his desk on his last night as Graveyard Supervisor, Gil couldn't help but feel a little misty. From that first shocking day when Jim informed him he'd be taking over the team he fell in love with the job…except for the paperwork…and the departmental meetings…and the red tape.

While he was looking forward to his new position and the prestige it would bring, Gil knew a part of him would miss the old routine. But he knew it was time to let the next generation take over. At 49, he was in the midst of what the Psychologist, Erikson, defined as a stage of Generativity vs. Stagnation…a period of a time when a man wants to reach out and help the next generation by being productive both professionally and personally. A smile found his lips as he realized he was doing both simultaneously for the first time in his life.

As Gil readied to say goodbye and move on to bigger and better things, he took comfort in the fact that he had done well in his supervisory role. And he was relieved that the Graveyard shift's solid reputation would remain intact in the competent hands of Warrick Brown, as Sara used to call him…his favorite CSI. Back then she was right but now it was too hard to choose.

Reclining in his chair he felt a paternal rush. His three 'boys' were all grown up…

Warrick was the first born…the independent one. Against heavy odds, he managed to face his demons and emerge stronger for it. So strong, it was almost impossible to believe that six years ago he was supposed to fire him. Instead Gil went with his gut and kept him around, believing in him and supporting him with a quiet reserve under which Warrick rapidly redeemed himself. And now, just as it was always supposed to be, the eldest son would step in and assume his father's role.

Even though Gil was extremely proud of his successor's job performance, it wasn't the thing for which he was most proud. No, it was what Warrick was doing personally that made Gil smile brightest. This year, he brought peace to Catherine's often tumultuous life and gave Lindsay the one thing she's needed most, a stable father-figure. At thirty-six, Warrick had it all going for him and Gil felt confident that his long-time 'favored son' would continue to make him proud.

Next was Nick, the middle child…the dependable one. He was doing a wonderful job supervising the day shift and Gil had no doubt that Mr. Stokes would one day ascend into the major role for which Jim Brass was grooming him. Unlike the eldest son and the father, Nick didn't hide his passion for the people his life touched. Be it his co-workers, the victims or their families, Nick didn't apologize for making it personal and it was a quality Gil often admired without acknowledging. It was the thing that set him apart and would take him far.

Thirty-five yesterday, Nick was right where Erikson would agree he should be…having developed a strong sense of identity, he was ready for commitment and as luck would have it, the right girl showed up at the right time. Well…Gil took a little credit for it because if it weren't for the Blake case, the soul mates might have never met and that would have been a shame for, as Catherine had taught him to say, they were clearly each other's lobsters.

And then there was Greg, the baby of the bunch…the quirky one. When he turned thirty in May, Gil had hoped the boy would miraculously become a man, but much to his disappointment, it didn't magically happen with the blowing out of candles in the break room. It ended up being a slightly slower process…the first step happening two months later on Dales Trail with the pull of a trigger. From that moment, the boy was in flux and while he teetered on the brink of maturity, he reverted and did something grossly irresponsible.

Gil, like any father, couldn't deny his initial disappointment at the youngster's error in judgment. But in the weeks since, he was privy to a beautiful thing…before his eyes he watched his littlest one grow up into an exemplary man. And one night, in the back yard of a grisly crime scene, the father even found himself leaning on and learning from the son. It was in that moment, that Gil realized he had a new favored son and while he'd never admit it, he fully intended to make sure this one grew to the level of greatness he suddenly saw him capable of attaining.

Warrick was ready for full-fledged independence, Nick had been stolen by Jim to, years from now, be his replacement and therefore, Greg would become Gil's protégé and, in the time after his retirement, and before Sean Blake was ready to take over in thirty years…he hoped Greg might be a worthy of a turn as Master Criminalist.

With the three pseudo-sons out of the proverbial nest and taking flight, there was only one thing left for Gil to do…fill the vacancy with one of his own. Staring at his wife's photo, he had the overwhelming urge to call home. A few seconds later, he heard his wife's voice.

"1-800-HOTgirls. What would…"

"Stop…" He instructed. "I'm calling because in an uncharacteristic display of emotion prompted by a deep analysis of Erickson's theory of generativity, triggered by pondering the significance of my 49th birthday two days ago and this impending career change, I want to say…I _really _hope I got you pregnant during our bad-sex marathon this month because, I'm ready to be a father. And now that I've said it out loud with such conviction, I'm feeling a little panicky so let's not talk about it."

"It figures you would feel this way _now_." Her words were followed by a labored sigh. "Really bad timing."

"Why?"

"Because I was just sitting here thinking I changed my mind."

Leaping out of his chair, he gasped. "What!"

"Bluffing!" She giggled uncontrollably. "I was actually lying in bed writing out potential names like the baby-obsessed dork that I am."

Clutching his head, he took his seat. "Promise me you won't do that again."

"Sorry…I'm feeling a little mischievous tonight."

"Then sneak some chicken and feed your craving." He chuckled into the phone. "So…about these names you're writing. Wanna share?"

"You know them well."

"Hmm…"

"Wanna hint?"

"Yes." Leaning over he grabbed a pen so he could write them down.

"They're_ frabjous_ names," She said with flair.

The connection was immediate. "Do you mean my great grandparents names from the book?"

"Erin and Owen. What do you think?"

"You'll laugh." He tapped the pen on the desk since he no longer had to write them to test them out. "I thought the same thing when I read the inscription."

"Well…that's about the easiest and quickest personal decision the two of us have EVER made. Five years to agree on dating and four seconds to name our future child."

Pleased with the progress, he remarked, "Like fine wine, our relationship is improving with age."

"So are you, Baby…in…every…way."

Just as he was about to launch a witty retort, Trey and Nina came flying into his office vigorously arguing. "Uh…personnel issue…gotta go." Hanging up the phone he jumped up. "What the hell is going on?"

Trey pointed at his co-worker. "She's out of line!"

"No! He's out of line." Nina faced Grissom and hissed. "He came on to me in the layout room. Apparently the bloody tarp wasn't the only thing he wants to lay around _here_! It's sexual harassment and I want his ass fired five minutes ago!"

"She's lying!" Trey fought back. "She's the one who unzipped her jumpsuit so I could see she wasn't wearing anything underneath." He looked to Grissom for empathy. "What guy isn't going to sneak a peek when the goods are on display? I mean you married your employee, right? Surely you played sneak-a-peak in the layout room."

Before Grissom could _defensively_ reply to the _absolutely truthful_ accusation, Catherine flew into his office. "This is NOT going to work!" Hands on her hips she snarled. "I thought since I'm the dominant one in the bedroom I could deal with him being the boss at work but…no can do. I can't work for Warrick."

Relieved he packed his migraine medication in his kit, Grissom massaged his temples. "Could you all please just stop screaming for a minute and…"

"Gris!" Warrick stormed into the office. "I think we have a problem."

"You think!" Grissom glanced around at all the angry faces. "What's your problem?"

"Sofia just kicked Hodges in the nuts and he's threatening assault charges."

Warrick's statement was the first thing to make sense to Grissom so far. "What…" Then he caught a glint in Catherine's eye. "You're making all this up, aren't you? Some kind of warped goodbye, right?"

Catherine took a seat on the edge of the desk. "Little slow on the uptake for a genius but yeah. Must be that extra 49th year bogging you down." She cackled. "Let's hope it's the only area of your life that's been impacted."

Warrick turned to Trey and Nina. "Thanks for playin'. Catherine and I will take it from here."

Catherine feigned a shiver while whispering to her friend, "I'm really starting to like Warrick in the authoritative role. I may even have to try the submissive thing in the bedroom."

Holding up his hand, Gil pleaded, "Too much information."

Once Trey and Nina were gone, Warrick approached Grissom's desk. "Since Cath and I are the only ones still around from the original crew, and we both know she has a problem with authority, it's up to me to say…you've been a great boss, Gris." Then he added a personal wish. "I only hope I can fill your shoes."

Although she tried in earnest not to chuckle, Catherine broke down and said, "Baby…with feet your size…" When he shot her a look she fell silent.

"Hey…I'll be damned." Gil looked to Warrick with amazement. "You actually got her to shut up. I've been trying to do that for six years. If you can accomplish that miracle, I feel quite confident you'll handle the rest of the job just fine."

Before Catherine could toss in her two cents, Gil's pager sounded and she quipped, "Saved by the dead."

After reading the message, Gil looked up. "What do you say the three of us handle this one together for old time's sake?"

"Lead the way…**_Boss_**," Catherine announced while winking at Warrick. "Don't think for a minute I'm _ever _calling you that."

"No problem, Baby." Whispering in her ear he casually said, "_Sir_ will be fine."

Gil grabbed his keys. "This is going to be a long night."

**August 20, 2005 (Day 120)**

**Boca Raton, Florida**

**Ron Grissom's House**

**8:23 a.m. EST**

After attending an all-day Board meeting yesterday, Ron was anxious to leave Atlanta at the crack of dawn and return to his home. So, using the corporate jet, he flew out first thing this morning. Of course, the only reason he was anxious to return was so he could pack and leave again…this time hopefully with a little more baggage.

As the limo pulled up the circular drive, Angelina Maria Cruz Valera, the live-in head housekeeper and chef, opened the double doors of the entrance and anxiously awaited Ron's arrival. Angelina, a Cuban refugee who arrived in Miami twenty-five years ago was, at fifty-seven, still a strikingly beautiful and curvaceous woman. For the last six years, Angelina was in charge of the house, a job she took after her husband, Juan, her teenage sweetheart turned husband, was killed on a construction job leaving her destitute.

At first the job was hell, but with no living relatives and nowhere to go she dug deep and didn't quit. It was a horrible time, which she referred to as _El Reinado de la Puta Flaca_…The Reign of the Skinny Whore…the whore being, Mrs. Tiffany Grissom, a thirty-three year old unnatural blonde, former runway model. La Puta Flaca had the dubious honor of being the nastiest person Angelina ever met…and she had met Fidel Castro _twice. _

During La Puta Flaca's reign, Angelina often wondered how a woman who subsisted on grapes and water could have the energy to be such a raging bitch twenty four hours a day. It baffled her that Ron, an intelligent and powerful man, put up with her antics. She was certain he didn't do it for the sex, although she knew they had it often because of the cat-like screeching noises La Puta Flaca would make. She often wondered how good the sex could be with a woman whose ass-bones stuck out further than her breasts, because real woman have curves, not sharp angles.

After surviving two years, something wonderful happened…thanks to cracking open Ron's head with a vase and violating a clause in the airtight pre-nup agreement, La Puta Flaca was told to pack her teeny tiny clothes in her big designer suitcases and hit the road. Then a new phase began…Los Anos Tragicos…The Tragic Years. Two years of gluttony at its worst. Ron drank and ate decadently while women came and went, none thankfully as nasty as La Puta Flaca…then again how could they be nasty to him when he was paying them?

Finally, a little over two years ago, it all caught up with her employer and she found him keeled over on the patio, in the throes of a massive heart attack. The doctors told her he wouldn't make it. She knew otherwise.

Angelina knew that Ron wasn't ready to die because he had unfinished business with his estranged son…the son who painted the pictures in the box tucked up on the high shelf in one of the unused bedrooms in the west wing.

As she predicted, her employer survived surgery and returned to his estate to recuperate. It was during this time, which she referred to as a time of Paz y Comodidad…Peace and Comfort, that Ron finally showed his human side to Angelina. It was when she first heard the names Jillian and Gil and learned of the mysterious bug-loving boy who drew the beautiful mariposa pictures in the secret box.

For the last two years it was just Ron and Angelina, or Lina as he called her, rattling around in the big house at night. Staff members came and went throughout the day…a maid, a gardener, a pool boy, but at night it was just the two of them…each lonely and longing for something they lost.

The second he stepped out of the limo, Ron excitedly shouted, "Lina! My boy wants me back!" He purposely hadn't told her over the phone so he could see her reaction. "I'm a dad again!"

"I told you!" She shrieked while charging down the seven marble stairs to the drive. "How did he react when you gave him the box?" When Ron asked her to have it Fed Ex'd last week she almost jumped out of her skin from excitement.

"Reserved as predicted, but Sara…she _loved it." _He gushed with excitement. "I'm sure Gil will get around to it at his own pace. Thank you…I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you. You've…"

The driver came around with Ron's bags and Angelina, annoyed by the interruption, quickly directed, "Leave them in the entryway."

"Here's the deal…" Ron didn't want to waste any time since the issue was weighing heavy on his mind. "Thinking optimistically that I'll have a reason to spend a decent amount of time in Vegas, I have my agent looking at some real estate there. I know it's a lot to ask but…would you mind coming with me and helping me out there?" The thought of living without her as his trusted right hand for any length of time unnerved him. Among other things, she was solely responsible for his healthy recovery after his triple bypass and she was the catalyst for getting his ass on a plane to Vegas after Gil's accident. These last two years he had come to rely on her for so many things but most of all, happiness.

"**_You want me to move to Vegas for you_?**" Taking no time to ponder the offer she answered, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Oh…" He nodded, trying to mask his disappointment. "I understand, you've lived in Florida for decades and it would be difficult to…"

"I'm just yanking your chain, Guero," She replied while copping her famous Cubana attitude that she knew he loved. "As if you'd be able to live without me for an extended period of time…I'm surprised you made it two weeks without having a nervous breakdown."

Following her and enjoying her salsa dancer's swagger, he announced, "Why the hell did you think I called every few days?"

She wanted to say, _because you're in love with me, but you're too scared to admit it_ however, she simply replied, "Tell me…how did you manage to tie your shoes without me around?" She started up the stairs to the front door.

"I wore slip ons."

"Ahh…he always has an answer."

"Hey, I spawned a genius so, I can't be that stupid."

"You married La Puta Flaca," She reminded him as they hit the top step. "Not too smart."

Proudly he replied, "Yeah, but she didn't get a dime of my money when I kicked her flaca ass out the door, now did she? So I'm not that dumb."

"Did you tell your son how much you're worth?"

"Nope." Glancing around at the six million dollar home he was entering Ron said, "It's not something that would impress him." Mocking himself, he laughed. "It sure as hell impressed La Puta Flaca though, didn't it?"

"And this is something to brag about, Guero? Maybe you should run your fingers through your hair and feel that scar again." Placing a hand on his shoulder, she scolded, "Your son…he's a wise man not to be tempted by wealth." She couldn't wait to meet the mysterious bug boy.

"He can't be that wise, he's taking a chance on me." He saw that familiar look in Angelina's eyes. Was it pity? Empathy? Something more? One thing was for sure, it was confusing and always left him, a normally articulate and verbose man, a little flustered. "Um…"

"Um, what? For a man who got rich talking, sometimes you don't do it very well." She tossed her hands in the air and headed for the master suite. "Nevermind. I'll start packing for Vegas. How long are we staying?"

"Who said anything about coming back?" He saw her startled expression. "With any luck I'll be a grandpa in nine months and that kid is going to need to learn a few things my son can't teach him."

The statement drove Angelina to belly-shaking laughter. "If it's a boy, I hope you're not planning on teaching him about women because what you don't know about women could supply enough power to light up all those fancy casinos in Vegas."

**Greg's Apartment  
****6:01 a.m. **

In bed in a sleepy stupor, Tawny felt for the ringing phone on the nightstand. "Hello?" She answered in throaty voice.

"Is this Tawny?" Scott Sanders cheerily inquired.

"Yes." Rolling on her back she blinked her eyes open.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Groggily she replied, "Who is this?"

"Greg's dad."

As if she just stuck a wet finger in an electrical socket, Tawny jumped five feet out of bed from the shock. "Uh…yes, this is Tawny." Had Bev's plan worked? Was Greg's dad so happy to find out his son was hetero that he couldn't possibly be mad about their whirlwind relationship and almost immediate shacking up _or_ had her plan failed and Mr.Sanders was calling to scream?

"Tawny!" Scott enthusiastically greeted. "I'm so happy to talk to you. Bev told me _everything_ about you."

"She did!" Rushing toward the bathroom where she heard the shower running, she panicked. "Everything?"

"She told me you brush three times a day and floss nightly."

"I do!" She confirmed while throwing open the bathroom door. "Um…I'll get Greg for you." Throwing open the curtain, she pointed to the phone while mouthing, _oh my god!_

Although he couldn't see her because of the lather from volumizing shampoo in his eyes, Greg knew his lover was standing in front of him jumping up and down. Feeling frisky and having a little extra time before heading to the lab to pick up Grissom for Anger Management he exclaimed, "You know I'm always up for a little wet hot lovin', Baby. Come on in and we'll play your favorite game, _is that a bar of soap or are you just happy to see me, Greggy_." Unfortunately he exclaimed it loud enough for his father to hear.

Covering the receiver a little too late, Tawny heatedly whispered, "Your _dad _is on the phone!"

"Are you shittin' me?" His friskiness instantly a memory, Greg grabbed a towel, wiped his face and then cinched it around his waist before taking the phone. "Dad!" He feigned a cheery tone. "I swear I counted to 100 when I brushed earlier."

"Excellent…but that wasn't why I called."

"Oh…" He glanced over at Tawny who was standing in the hall chomping on her fist.

"I called about _the donuts_, Gregory. Your mother told me how you brought donuts to Tawny every day for two weeks and I can't express how much it sickened me to hear about it."

Clutching his hair with his free hand he couldn't believe his mother told the donut story to his father. What else did she say he panicked? They had a plan! _How could she sell me out!_

Groaning, Scott informed his wayward son, "You know how much _sugar_ Krispy Kremes have and what they can do to your teeth. Why are you encouraging such bad habits with your girlfriend?" Then he started to laugh.

As his heart rate began to slow, Greg asked, "Did mom tell you to call me with this?"

"Yes, she said you'd find it hilarious. But you're not laughing so maybe it's one of your mother's jokes that only she gets …you know the ones."

"Yeah." He slid down the wall while shaking his head. "So…um…are you disappointed that I asked Tawny to move in with me so fast?"

"I absolutely think it's too fast, yes." Then Scott lowered his voice to a whisper. "But if she loves to play _is that a bar of soap or are you just happy to see me Greggy_? I can certainly _comprehend_ why you'd want her to live with you. Just remember what I've been telling you since you were sixteen, son…practice safe sex. And because I realize I didn't mention this in one of our _many _sexual responsibility talks I'll say it now…girls _can_ get pregnant in the shower. Soapy water is not an effective prophylactic." He chuckled at his own joke. "Okay, that was me cracking jokes and you're not laughing either. Seriously though…the last thing you need on your pitiful salary at this early juncture in your career is a baby on the way. You and Tawny barely know each other. I understand it's exciting to be in love for the first time but try to take this slow…don't be impetuous like you can be some times. And whatever you do, do not…I repeat…do NOT get drunk and run off to a chapel and marry this girl. Your mother will kill you if she doesn't get a real wedding from you one day _years from now_ when you're financially ready for a commitment. So play in the shower all you want but don't make rash decisions that you can't stand by for the rest of your life. Understand?"

"Right, Dad." He gulped. "Totally understand. Yep…got it."

"Great." Scott exhaled into the phone. "Now, your mother told me a_ little _about Tawny, but then she fell asleep. I guess she needed extra rest because she had something going on early this morning. She was gone before I woke up. So I want you to tell me _all about Tawny_."

"Okay. Well she…DAMN!" Greg lied, "Sorry, my boss is paging me. I'd love to talk but, I wouldn't want to be _irresponsible_ and not report in."

"Of course not. Hey, Greg…with your skills, you could be making three times the cash for any major corporation…but you're following your heart and I admire you for it because your job is tough and most people wouldn't want it. I know I haven't told you in a while but…I'm really proud of you, son."

Staring at the ceiling, Greg tried to deal with the comment that under normal circumstances he'd be thrilled to hear. "Thanks, Dad."

When he hung up, Greg thought…I think it's time for that father-son 'yes, I got her pregnant' role play I mentioned to Grissom last week.

"How bad was it, Greggy?" Tawny nervously asked as she took a seat on the floor next to her man.

"He's looking forward to our trip out to California," He replied, choosing to focus on the positive. "Only two weeks to go…"

She sighed. Going to California was one of the last goals on the 2005 Fantasy list and the sooner those were done she figured Greg would start working on the future edition. "Two weeks seems like forever."

Greg's retort remained in his head. _That's funny, because it seems way too fast for me_. Regrouping, he told his concerned significant other, "My mom obviously sang your praises because my dad is very excited to meet you. He's happy I've found someone, and much to my surprise, he also told me he was proud of my work."

"That's great!" She enthused while slipping her hand in his.

Sadly he admitted, "Yeah…everything is perfect. Now I have to ruin it by telling him I got you pregnant." Greg turned his gaze to Tawny. "He made it pretty clear that it's the wrong time for me to start supporting a family…I'm at the bottom of the CSI pay scale, I'm just starting my field career and I can't buy a house. That's the perfect '_don't get a girl pregnant'_ trinity for my dad."

Staring into his eyes, Tawny whispered, "Don't tell him until after the paternity test. Because if you tell him before and it's not yours then he won't know you were irresponsible. And if the baby's not yours then…" That's when she realized it would be even harder to tell his dad. If his dad thought it was a bad a idea for Greg to make sacrifices to take care of his own offspring, what were the odds that Daddy would approve of him stepping in to take care of someone else's? On the contrary, Mr. Sanders would probably fight tooth and nail to get Greg to sever all ties with her…a trashy girl who would no doubt be a disgrace to the family. It was so cliché and yet she knew it could happen. After all, her own biologically related parent told her to hit the road. "If it's _not _your baby then maybe I should…" The words got caught in her throat.

"What's going on in your head?" Greg asked, clearly seeing Tawny was getting upset.

Panicked by the thought of being forced out of Greg's life and scared to death of the remaining options, she replied in a quiver, "I don't want your relationship with your father…if the baby isn't yours then maybe the best thing would be for me to do…you said it yourself, everything would be perfect if there was no baby."

"And let me live the rest of my life knowing you terminated your pregnancy to make life easier for me? No way in hell!" Shaking his head he adamantly opposed the plan. "You _never_ wanted that option before so you're not going to do it now because things are rocky for me. I know my limits. I won't be able to deal with that kind of baggage. It would doom our relationship because we'd never look at each other the same. Don't ever bring it up again." Pulling her close, he soothed, "Try not to worry. It's my baby. I'll handle my father. This thing with my dad, it isn't something for you to worry about. It doesn't impact what you and I have. Okay?"

"Okay." Closing her eyes she considered the one option she hadn't verbalized. The one that would keep her in Greg's life, prevent him from feeling guilty and save him from his father's wrath. After the paternity test, if god forbid the baby wasn't Greg's, she could tell him she had a miscarriage and do the procedure on the sly. But like Greg said, how does one deal with that kind of baggage, especially when you already love the baby growing inside? It wasn't something to think about now she quickly decided. It wasn't even going to be necessary because the baby would be Greg's...it's ninety-nine percent in his favor she reminded herself.

"Feel better?" Greg sweetly asked, while still feeling down himself.

"Yes," She assured him through a fake smile. "I love you so much, Greg."

"Don't worry…" Gently he kissed her lips. "…I'll do whatever it takes to protect you."

As they shared the tender moment, she answered him in her mind…_and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you._

**Nick and Carrie's Apartment  
****6:17 a.m. **

As Nick, with briefcase in hand, was on his way out the door to work, Carrie grabbed his arm. "Wait…sorry…do you have like five minutes?"

After checking his watch he smiled. "I can spare fifteen." He chuckled deviously. "What do you have in mind?"

Bubbling with excitement she replied, "Selecting wedding music!"

He groaned, "That's exactly what I was hopin' you'd say."

Rushing over to the CD player, Carrie explained. "Okay, this _first choice_, is a band called Affinity. They have multiple singers and a really nice four piece horn section. They're wonderful, I'm just not sure they have the right sound considering…well, you listen to them for a minute."

Nick stood listening to the song and when it was over, he remarked, "I think they sound great…classy, obviously experienced. I'd have to see their play list to be sure."

Smiling, Carrie held up the next CD. Okay, here's _the second choice_…now we both know how much you automatically like _the second choice_, but try to stay objective."

Once she had the CD loaded Nick dropped his briefcase and playfully grabbed her. "You're never going to let that _second choice_ thing go, are you, Roxie?" Much to her pleasure, he had been teasing her with the nickname ever since they tossed the leather corset in the trash at the hotel. Instead of being her sexual alter-ego, they had decided that it would be the name he called her when she was too over-zealous in her anal retentive planning and organizing or when she was giving him shit.

She shook with laughter as he tickled her, which he had deemed would always be the appropriate torture for getting her to lighten up after invoking the Roxie name. "Back off, Tex!" Tex was the nickname she had chosen for him after confirming her fiancé was a certified straight-shooter type of guy. "Seriously, Nicky! You have to go to work and I need an answer here."

"Okay, okay." Relenting, he took a few steps back. "Hit it."

Composing herself she announced, "This _second choice_ I selected because I think it will appeal more to your family. You know…since they live in the south." Pressing play, she smirked, "They're called The Billy Trilly Hillbilly Band." The look on Nick's face as he listened to the painfully twangy sound of the amateur washboard band was priceless. "So…what do you think?"

With out pause, he calmly said, "I like the second choice."

"What!" She was floored. The whole purpose of the charade was to tease, which obviously he was now doing. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not." Walking over he turned up the volume. "I'm lovin' this. Thanks for thinking of my family, Honey." Grinning from ear to ear he started hoopin' and hollerin'. "Oh yeah…this is going to be perfect! My Grandpa Bubba had his own hillbilly band back in the day. It will mean a lot to my mom to hear this music at our wedding…it will be like having Grandpa Bubba with us in spirit. "

Shocked that he actually liked it she stammered, "Uh…you really think…"

"Hell yeah!" Grabbing her hand he twirled her. "Maybe this should be our song."

"What? NO!" Pulling away she hurried to the stereo and shut off the music. "This choice was supposed to be a joke! I was fooling around!"

"Oh." He got serious. "So we're back to you giving me non-existent choices again, huh? Great! Just great! I'm starting to think there shouldn't even be a wedding."

"No…I mean…oh god…I can't believe…this is why I shouldn't play practical jokes because I stink at…"

"Bluffing!" Nick burst out laughing. "You do stink! However, I _don't_ and that means you're going to lose BIG at poker tonight. BIG!" Grabbing his briefcase he headed for the door. Once there he turned around and announced. "For the record…I love _the first choice_….and I love you."

"And just for the record, Tex." Carrie postured confidently. "I'm wiping the floor with your ass tonight at poker! And…I love you too."

* * *


	2. In the Bluff Part 2

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

"**In the Bluff – Part 2"**

**August 20, 2005 (Day 120)  
****Las Vegas Crime Lab  
****Parking Lot  
****7:33 a.m. **

As planned, Greg swung by the lab to pick up Grissom for their second Anger Management session, but much to Grissom's surprise, Greg was in a sullen mood. Since they hadn't seen each other since Wednesday's interaction at the North Vegas gang shooting crime scene, he wondered if the incident was still working on his protégé. "You doin' alright, Greg? You don't seem like yourself today."

"See…this is why you kicked my ass at poker and exactly why I'll be on the sidelines at your party tonight. One look at my face and you read me…yeah, I got somethin' working on me." Glancing over he asked, "You feel like driving today?"

"Sure." Fishing into his pants pocket, Grissom retrieved the keys to his S350. "I'm right over there." He pointed to his car.

As they approached the Mercedes, Greg remarked, "Did I ever tell you that my dad drives the same car as you? Except he has it in grey instead of pewter."

Using his remote to unlock the doors, Grissom asked, "Is that what's bothering you? The car issue we talked about last Saturday?"

"I wish that was my biggest problem." Opening the passenger door, Greg was happy to slip inside and crash against the leather interior. "Actually, I uh…solved the car problem," He informed his mentor once they were both inside. "Well, technically my mom solved it for me. When she was out here she loved driving my Z so she made me a deal…cash and her Camry in exchange for it. To quote The Godfather…she made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Which is a nice way of saying she gave me a handout and because she won't tell my dad how much over and above the blue book she compensated me, it saves face for me in front of him." He shook his head. "Pretty pathetic having my mommy bail me out, huh?"

"Mothers can be very protective of their sons." Starting the car, Grissom smiled. "Think about it, she used to help you every day when you were a kid. It's hard now that you don't need her anymore, so when the opportunity arose, she jumped at the chance to recapture that feeling again. It probably did as much for her as it did for you."

"You speak as if you've been in the same position." As they pulled out of the parking lot, Greg cracked a smile for the first time. "Since you confessed last week that you actually had a mother, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say…since you were an only child your mother was over protective of you too."

Grissom returned the smile. "Let's just say that's putting it mildly."

"Okay, so we have that in common." Settling in for the ride, Greg continued his line of questioning. "Stop me if this is too personal but…did your dad get ticked at your mom for being too protective of you? Because the only time my parents ever fought when I was growing up was when they were fighting over how to raise me. I'd just stand there watching, not knowing what to say…my mom would end up crying and my dad would feel bad that she was crying. It always made me feel guilty. So now, with my mom helping me with Tawny and keeping stuff from my dad, I'm afraid it's going to cause problems again."

A month ago Greg's question would have been extraordinarily uncomfortable. But today, after his recent life changing ordeal with Sara, two weeks of therapy, a fresh start with his father and a birthday, Grissom felt more comfortable sharing. "My parents divorced when I was six and I never saw my dad much after that, so I can't relate to that specific issue very well." He knew Dr. Myers would be proud of him for flinging that out there. "One important thing I've learned recently…be cautious before jumping to conclusions and taking sides when it comes to your parents. Although my mother's intentions were always pure, they weren't always wise, and they weren't always fair to my father or me."

"Okay…yeah, I'll remember that." Greg absorbed the detail and moved on. "That had to be rough growing up without your dad around. Do you know why your parents got divorced?"

"Honestly…I don't want to go there." Rome wasn't built in a day and apparently sharing would need to be done in small, baby steps.

"That's cool." He could understand it was too personal. "I only asked because I've been thinking a lot about marriage lately and when I hear stories like that…I start sweating it a little. The only other way I could disappoint my parents more than I already have would be to get married and then quickly divorced."

"Still mulling over whether or not you could stick with Tawny if the baby isn't yours?"

"No, I know I can but now Tawny is worried about me doing it." Happy to have someone to confide in, he opened up. "My dad called this morning and he was psyched about me having a girlfriend and doing well at work. He even told me he was proud of me, which he hasn't done in a while. It's all great…fantastic…or it would be if I didn't have to tell him I got Tawny pregnant. But that's not the part that's really eatin' at me. After Tawny saw how bummed I was she brought up the idea of terminating the pregnancy should the baby not be mine when we find out in two and a half weeks."

"How did you feel about that?" He almost smiled, not at the serious topic but at the fact he sounded like Dr. Myers and appreciated why it was important to ask the question and deal with the emotions at hand rather than bury them.

"I told her no way and not to bring it up again. I couldn't live with the fact that she did that to make life easier for me. I already made up my mind that I could deal. I tossed out the L word a couple of days ago." He took a moment to smile. "It was as awesome as I thought it would be and I wouldn't have done that if I wasn't serious about sticking around no matter what."

"Okay, that's how _you_ feel, but what if it will make life easier for her?" Grissom countered, concerned that Greg's approach was too controlling. "You can't just consider your perspective. You're in a serious committed relationship now…as a couple you're supposed to discuss things thoroughly and come to _mutual _decisions. That's how respect between two people grows. You keep making decisions _for her_ then she doesn't have an equal place in the relationship and you'll grow apart, not together."

"But I _know_ she loves the baby." Running his fingers through his hair, Greg sighed, "That's what's killing me. She's willing to do something totally against her will just to help me. Her self-esteem is still so…"

"It has nothing to do with self-esteem, Greg." Smiling as he pulled into the Excalibur's parking lot, Grissom informed the relationship-newbie of the real motivation behind Tawny's behavior. "She _loves_ you. One look at her when she's with you and anyone can see it. When someone really loves you they can be driven to make compromises in order to help you. For instance…they may forgive you for something that previously they would have believed to be unforgivable. I'll even share a recent personal experience…between you and me only. My father, who I mentioned earlier, showed up two weeks ago wanting to reconcile. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd give him the time of day."

"But when you saw him, your love for him made you reconsider?"

"No. Hardly." He shook his head. "My love _for Sara_ made me reconsider. It's important to her that I try this, and therefore I did something I never thought I would do. I agreed to a fresh start with my father, which means I risk getting hurt by him all over again." Parking the car, he refocused the conversation. "In Tawny's case, she's considering doing something that she previously thought unthinkable."

"Okay…let me work through this. Your example first." After taking a deep breath, he said, "The risk Sara runs is…if things don't work out with your dad and you get hurt again, she might feel responsible."

"I know she would."

"And if Tawny terminates the pregnancy and then regrets it, I'll feel responsible _and _she could direct her anger for doing it at me."

"A very plausible scenario."

Frustrated, Greg asked, "Okay so where's the **_A Ha!_** moment here?"

"There isn't one."

"No offense…but I feel more confused than when we started this discussion."

"That's good news." Grissom opened the car door and stepped outside, waiting for Greg to join him. "It means you're finally thinking."

"I thought I was thinking before…isn't that why we started the discussion?"

Side by side they walked toward the giant castle casino.

"No, you were worrying over the decision you made in a bubble without Tawny's input. I wouldn't be surprised if she's still obsessing about the option you forbid her to discuss. You didn't even understand her motivation so how could you honestly discount her opinion?" Easing up, he said, "Look…in all likelihood she really doesn't want to terminate the pregnancy but she needs to talk about what's driving her to consider the option. You need to know _why _she's that desperate so you can assure her and take that fear away. She's very young Greg and I have no doubt she's scared. I don't know about you but, at 22 the _idea _of a relationship scared the crap out of me. Look at what she's dealing with at the same age."

"Hell, I was still a virgin at her age." Nodding he said, "You're absolutely right. I need to talk it out more with her. We need to go through the 'what ifs' and decide which ones we can and can't live with…maybe then there will be a clearer picture?"

"That sounds like a good start." Apparently pseudo-son number three still needed him and Grissom didn't mind the feeling.

A little amazed by the solid relationship advice from a previously unthinkable source Greg asked, "How did you go from not having a personal life to being so good at this stuff?"

"I've always been a fast learner, Greg." Walking into the hotel, Grissom smiled. "That's the _third _thing the two of us have in common."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." It meant a lot and he reflected it in his smile. "Wait…the _first _thing we had in common was overprotective mothers and now you said the _third _thing was…" When he realized what the second thing was, Greg snickered, "How old were you?"

With a poker face, Grissom replied, "You know…forty-eight, my wedding night with Sara. I'm an old-fashioned guy."

"Whoa. Really?" When Greg considered the scenario suddenly all of Grissom's bad moods over the years made perfect sense. Then he recalled some previous information…the information obtained accidentally when he overheard it a certain dominion. "Wait…but what about Lady Heather?"

Then Grissom broke out laughing. "And you wonder why you can't win at poker. Twenty-four and if you tell anyone I'll kill you."

"Not really a good thing to say on the way to _Anger Management_ class. And for the record…you know I've never said a word since finding out about Lady Heather. My word is, and will always be solid." As they walked through the corridor, Greg shared his latest thought. "Anyway back to the other topic, I was 22, it was over in 90 seconds, and the girl specifically asked me _not _to call her for another date. So my question to you is, do you uh…think there's a direct correlation between a guy's cherry-losing age and the degree to which he was overprotected by his mother?"

In a perfect deadpan he replied, "Oh…only about as strong as the correlation between a lit match causing a fire when dropped onto a pile of dry kindling."

The mama's boys shared a laugh as they headed down the hall toward the conference rooms.

"Hey, Greg…" Prompted by the sight of a Caucasian man holding an Asian toddler on his shoulders, Grissom shared a new suggestion. "Here's something that might help Tawny believe it's possible for you to be a father to the baby even if you're not the bio dad…witnessing some practical applications. Have her spend a little time with Warrick and Lindsay and let her see how a non-bio dad and child relationship looks. I think she'll be surprised that the relationship doesn't look very different because of a lack of DNA commonality."

"That's a really good idea." Out of the corner of his eye, Greg saw Irving the Intolerant. "Uh oh…look out…nutjob at two o'clock."

When Irving reached Greg, he growled, "Did you say something about me, dork?"

"Uh…" He wondered how he could have heard him. "No, I uh…"

"Beat it! He's having a bad day and doesn't need your crap." Grissom got in Irving's face…well, actually his chest since Irving towered over him, and began the ruse. "Look, you got a problem with him, then you got a problem with _me_. So unless you want your face rearranged, I suggest you keep walking."

Greg's neck nearly snapped when he turned to look at Grissom. "Really, it's okay…" Finally he realized why Grissom signed himself up for this training class…he had one hell of an anger management problem! Not to mention a warped sense of reality when it came to smackdown matchups.

"Who are you, his mommy?" Irving snarled at Grissom.

"No…I'm your worst nightmare!" Through gritted teeth he seethed, "I've got 49 years of pent up geek angst coursing through my veins, and today I'm funneling it all towards you. I'm not going to let another one of you bullies tweak me or my friend. Got it?"

Completely unnerved by his mentor's behavior Greg warbled, "What the hell are you doing?" Grissom looked like a cocker spaniel going up against a pit bull. "IxNay on the…"

"Back off, Science Nerd!" Irving warned as he loomed over Grissom. "Don't make me hurt you." He cracked his knuckles for effect.

"How about we take this outside?" Grissom twitched like one of the many psychos he had interrogated over the years. "That is unless you're scared, _punk_!"

"Let's go!" Irving made a fist and punched it into his open hand. "Now!"

Pointing towards the door, Grissom barked, "Ladies first!"

"Hey!" Greg was in full panic. "Oh my god! Gris, are you out of your freakin' mind? That guy will snap you like a twig! And without my firearm, I'm not really much of a threat as your sidekick."

Irving burst out laughing at the little flustered guy. "Dude…the look on your face. It was almost as scary as your hair!"

Grissom patted Greg on the back. "Sorry, Irving is my new personal trainer. We pre-arranged this little show for your benefit. I feel bad considering you're having a tough day but, you know what they say…the show must go on. I didn't have a way of calling if off and I wasn't about to disappoint Irving…he could squash me like a bird."

"Don't you mean bug?" Irving asked.

"Don't even."

"Grissom…you mean…YOU played a practical joke on ME?" Greg was quite certain cats and dogs would frolic by on their way out to dance in the street. "What's next? You spike your hair and I grow a beard?"

Irving found the remark hilarious. "As if you could grow a beard, Peach Fuzz. Sorry…you'll need to hit puberty first." Tossing his arm around the little guy, Irving gave him a squeeze. "Wanna be my table buddy today?"

"Sure," He squeaked as he struggled for air. "I'll even share my bag of gummy bears."

"Cool." Irving relaxed his grip. "I love gummy bears. You ever think about hiring a personal trainer?"

Trailing behind, Grissom smiled at the exchange and Irving's tenacity.

Shaking his head, Greg explained, "No can do. Cash is a little tight right now." Then he saw an opportunity. Puffing out his chest, he boasted, "My significant other is pregnant and we're saving up for the baby. Yep…only took one try …I'm that virile."

Irving groaned, "Forget to use a condom?"

"Yeah."

"Idiot."

Grissom once again was impressed with the man's observation skills. "How'd you figure that one out Irving?"

"Called her his significant other, not his wife…he's in financial panic, which means the pregnancy wasn't planned…and, the only time it works in one try, is when you don't want it to work at all."

"Tell me about it." Grissom rolled his eyes.

Still in the mood to needle his little pal, Irving teased, "Is your daddy going to take away your wheels to teach you a lesson?"

"No, my mommy already did that."

**Las Vegas Crime Lab  
****11:17 a.m. **

While returning from the interrogation room, Sara asked Nick, "Think you're gonna get lucky tonight?"

"Excuse me?" Looking up from his case file, Nick stared wide eyed.

"At poker, Perv."

"Perv? You have me confused with Sanders," He joked. "Which I don't see how you could…but yes, in answer to your question, I'm especially looking forward to taking chips from my fiancée."

"She'll get it back when she marries you and your money."

He laughed at the thought. "She has _way_ more money than me going into the merge. She's been saving and investing her cash for a decade while I saved half and spent half on women and adventures…sometimes at the same time. And before you say it…Carrie knows that my parents' money isn't mine. Stokes kids are expected to earn their way in life, they don't get handouts. Sure, my parents are paying for a bulk of the wedding, but in their eyes that's their parental duty, especially since they want to invite a lot of people and Carrie's dad isn't loaded. And, I'm sure they'll give us a nice gift because they've done that for my brother and sisters, but a wedding gift isn't a handout in their eyes."

"So if she's not marrying you for your money…" Sara gawked at her friend with a feigned incredulity. "…why would she want to marry _you_?"

"For the other _big _reason women marry guys…because I rock her world nightly." Winking he said, "Lucky for Grissom he's got a lot of money."

"Nice comeback."

"I thought so."

"So…" As they stepped into the empty break room, Sara inquired, "…I haven't had a chance to ask...how was your birthday?"

"Fantastic…a romantic night followed by a day of pampering at the Spa and drinks poolside. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday." The memories lit his eyes. "I am truly a lucky man. It was straight out of the Nick Stokes fantasy file."

She was pleased to hear her consultation with Carrie was a success in Nick's opinion as well as Carrie's, who she spoke with about it at length the previous day. Now it was time to tweak her pal…a little payback for all the times he did the same to her. "So it went as _predicted_."

Shaking his head he sighed, "You know, I really love the fact that you and Carrie are becoming great pals but…exactly _how much_ information are you two sharing?"

Cracking open the seal on her bottle of water Sara smirked, "Everything."

"Everything?" He was a little surprised that Carrie would give away so much information.

"Does that surprise you?" She paused for a sip to let him stew. "Do you think only guys talk about this stuff? Hell no…women like to talk it up too. Did you really think all those times you sat in the break room dishing dirt on the women you were with, that the same women weren't out there giving the low down on you?"

"Oh I know they were." He boasted, "Why do you think I had such an easy time getting dates in this town? Conversely, why do you think Greg was so hard up? Good PR versus bad PR. When you're a single guy in Vegas, it's all in the marketing."

"Ugh!" She leaned against the wall and groaned. "So it was okay that all _those _women talked because you benefited from the free advertising. But now that you're off the market and don't need the press, you want your lil' woman to hush up and not even indulge in a little harmless girl talk…even if it makes her more secure to exchange information and form a sisterly bond in the process?"

"Well when you say it like that you make me sound like an ass."

She raised a brow.

"Okay fine, but _everything?_ That's a bit much don't you think?" He squirmed. "What the hell does _everything _mean anyway? We have to work together, Sara. Hell, I've always felt like your brother and now I'm your boss. You're not supposed to have sexual knowledge of your boss." The statement made him burst out laughing. "Well now I suppose you're used to that, _but I'm not_."

"That's a relief considering you worked for my husband for how many years?"

They took a minute to laugh that one off and then Sara clarified her statement. "By everything I meant _cerebrally_. Carrie's not violating partner trust if that's what you're worried about. She's not sharing _physical _details."

"Oh."

She watched him ruminate over the new angle. "Now you want to know why she's leaving out the other stuff. Wondering maybe if there's something wrong?"

"Well…"

"Oh come on, you can't have it both ways, Nick…" Fighting the urge to laugh, she finished her statement. "…you have to _choose." _

"Okay, that's it…"

"Sorry…I only know about that because it was my idea." She flashed a shy smile. "And now I really regret saying that out loud."

"YOU were responsible for the leather?" He was stunned.

"Hell no…She asked for my advice and I said pick something nice and something naughty…but naughty to me means small and in black or red lace, not dominatrix-wear."

The sound of Nick's pager interrupted the conversation. "Where we going?" She inquired while he read the message.

"Lady Heather's Dominion."

"What!" Her heart stopped until she saw him laugh.

"Just kidding…'cause of the leather thing. Trust me, I know you hate those Perv Palaces as much as me." Setting down his mug he told her the real locale. "We're going to the Mini Mart on the corner of Rio and 4th. You wanna drive?"

"I don't know, what's the _second choice_?" The sound of his eye roll was music to her ears. "She did tell me about you always picking the second wedding choice. Not too smooth, Stokes."

**The Cheesecake Factory  
****2:52 p.m. **

Much to her chagrin after a hectic lunch shift, Tawny saw two of her old co-workers sliding into a booth in her section.

"OH! OH! Look who had an extreme makeover!" Diamond greeted with a wave of her bangle-covered wrist. "Girlfriend, you clean up nice."

As Tawny approached, Tiffany grabbed her left hand. "I like your new look but, one area is still _unimproved…_no ring. You still got that bun in the oven?"

"Hi guys," Tawny pushed out a smile. "Yes, I'm starting my seventh week. And no ring yet but…Greg introduced me to his mom. She came out for a visit and we got along great! I'm going out to California in a couple of weeks to meet his dad."

Diamond nodded as she looked Tawny up and down. "So you cleaned up your act to meet your boyfriend's mama? Smart move."

"No, actually she took me out for a girl's day and…"

"Oh, honey…" Diamond sighed. "She took you out for a de-skanking. That's real sweet."

Tiffany snorted from laughing so suddenly. "Mama had to clean her up before the California trip. You know how those rich father's are…they don't mind if their precious little boys bang every big-haired tramp in town _on the sly…_just don't bring 'em round to meet the neighbors."

"Hey!" Tawny wasn't about to take another put-down when suddenly Tiffany's words set off a round of doubt in her mind. Is that why Bev did what she did? Was it all because Greg's dad would have flipped if he had seen me the old way?

Diamond reassured her old co-worker. "Honey, what difference does it make? You look like a million bucks now."

"No…" Tiffany argued. "She looks like a_ thousand _bucks. Once she has the diamond on her finger she'll…"

"Tawny!" Greg rushed through the restaurant happy to find his mate. "Hey…" Glancing over at the customers in the booth he apologized, "Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt. I just need a sec."

"Looks like mama taught him nice manners." Diamond stared at the wacky-haired goof wearing an untucked rainbow-stripe button down short-sleeve shirt, a pair of baggy blue cargo shorts and funky sneakers. "_This_ is Prince Charming?"

Tiffany joined in the staring contest. "Looks more like Prince Chuckles the Clown."

"Wow…" Greg returned the women's stares. "I know the customer is always supposed to be right but…jeez…how would you like it if I said you look like a couple of hook…"

"These are two of my old co-workers from Club Paradise." Tawny made the proper introductions. "Diamond and Tiffany, this is my boyfriend, Greg Sanders."

"Oh." It was a shocking reminder of Tawny's previous lifestyle. "Sorry…nice to meet you." Checking his watch he said, "Tawny, are you still finishing your shift at three?"

Grateful for the reminder that she wouldn't have to stay and wait on her 'friends', Tawny answered through a grin. "Yes."

"Great!" Fueled from the caffeine from the Starbucks he downed on the drive over, Greg bounced in place. "I have somewhere I want to take you for a little while. Don't worry, you'll still have plenty of time to rest before the party tonight because I know you'll probably be tired." She was getting more tired every day now that she was approaching her third month of pregnancy. "So is it okay?"

Thrilled he was being so attentive in front of the girls, Tawny egged him on. "I'll be happy to go anywhere with you, Sweetie, because..." Wrinkling her nose in the cutest of ways she blissfully said, "I love you" and then anxiously awaited him to return the sentiment.

"Great!" He checked his watch again. "While you wrap things up I'll pull the car around to the entrance."

Unfortunately, that wasn't what he was supposed to say, but Tawny held her disappointment in check. "Okay, see you in a few."

"Bye, Ladies," Greg politely told Tawny's ex co-workers before darting out of the restaurant.

As soon as he was gone, Tiffany elbowed Diamond. "She said it, but he didn't."

"Not good," Diamond sadly concurred. "I feel your pain girlfriend."

Tawny jumped to explain. "But he has said it! And he meant it and…oh whatever…dammit." And as Tawny stood there deflated and wondering if _any_ of her plans would ever go her way, she felt a set of arms slip around her waist and whisk her around. "Greg!"

Breathless from the dash back inside he announced, "Sorry, I know you're working and this is totally inappropriate but…I can't help it." After a quick kiss, he said, "I love you too. Okay…now I'll be outside waiting for you." Then he dashed away again.

An expression as rich as the cheesecake being served around her smoothed over Tawny's face. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat but, I have date with Prince Chuckles and I can't wait to clown around. See ya girls."

When their friend was gone, Diamond said to Tiffany, "I didn't see that comin', did you?"

"Hell no." She groaned, "You think he's hot?"

"Do I think he's _hot_? Oh, Honey…" Diamond choked on the question. "I don't go for scrawny white boys with hair taller than mine, who wear their _pajamas _out of the house and bounce into a room like Tigger on crack, but…I think he looks nice on Miss Kansas." Her mouth curving high, she teased her pal, "Well now…look who's crushing on Chuckles. Oh yeah…Tiff is wishing she could juggle his…"

"Shut up." She flipped open her menu with a harsh snap of the wrist. "I am not."

In her best porn-star voice, Diamond teased, "Tiff wants her some _Chuckles_…oh yeah…she wants him baaaaaaad. She wants to run her fingers through his _big-ass clown hair_ and she wants to know if he's hiding any magic under those jammies. Oh yeah…uh huh…the girl wants to know if it's true what they say about judging a clown by the size of his freaky shoes and she wants to find out the answer in the back seat of his clown car." As she watched her friend steam, Diamond started humming a circus tune. Then she paused for a warning, "Honey, I'm not gonna stop hummin' until you admit you want some clown lovin'." With that she resumed the tune.

**Las Vegas Crime Lab  
****3:17 p.m. **

As she was exiting from the DNA lab, Sara saw Jim Brass hurrying down the hall. "Hey, Brass Man," She called out, using the casual term only because the hall was empty.

"Yes, Boom Boom?" He joked since no one was around. "Shouldn't you be going home to don an apron and arrange crudités for the big soiree tonight?"

She honestly replied, "My boss won't let me get off early. He's not as lenient that way as Gil was."

Holding up his hands he grinned, "Not touchin' that one even though you accidentally served it on a silver platter."

"Thanks for the reprieve." Curious, she asked, "Still bringing Roxie tonight or did your real mystery lady manage to free herself from her previous commitment?"

"Unfortunately she'll still be tying up loose ends tonight." Tying up loose men was more like it.

Anxious to meet the special lady, she suggested something quite out of the ordinary. "Maybe we could go out to dinner sometime…as couples."

"I'm sure that would make for a very interesting evening," He deflected. "Sara…getting serious here for a second. Shocking! I know. I've been meaning to ask you if you could check your calendar for availability to have lunch with me on your next day off. I want to thank you for the pen and make sure you're okay from the whole Tahoe thing."

"That's really sweet." She found her smile flaring wide. "I'd really like that, Jim."

"Great." So it was settled. On her next day off, he'd take her to lunch and break the news about Heather. "Why don't you tell my secretary and she'll put it on my calendar for me, okay?"

"Okay." Walking away, she couldn't deny the sense of warmth his offer brought. "Thanks for caring. See you tonight." She couldn't deny how good it felt to have someone looking out for her. Jim was a guy she could always count on to have her back. Whether it was protecting her from a snarling Dominatrix or from Gil or herself…he knew just how to handle the situation. He was a slightly warped father-figure and an excellent friend. Someone she never had to worry would betray her.

**Henley Softball Field  
****3:47 p.m. **

After a quick change into a pair of pale pink shorts, a floral cami and sandals, Tawny met Greg outside the entrance to the Forum Shops as promised.

Once in the car, Greg informed her they would be heading to a park to watch Lindsay Willows play a pre-season softball game. He didn't cite a specific reason but instead said, "It was something I promised to do, and about an hour ago I found out she had a game today so I thought I'd do it today." It was all true. He called Catherine earlier and mentioned Tawny's concern and Grissom's suggestion. She was eager to jump at the chance and assured him Warrick would love to help too.

So, shortly before the scheduled four o'clock game, they parked the car and headed for the crowded bleachers, looking for their friends.

One look at Tawny and Catherine's eyes lit up. "Look at you!" She couldn't believe the difference a decent hair-do, shortened claws, toned down make-up and cute non-trampy clothes made. "You look fantastic!"

"Thanks," Tawny beamed, happy to know Greg's co-worker found her new look appealing and when she felt Greg's hand squeeze hers it made the moment even better.

"I saved you a spot." She patted the empty bleacher space and as they sat, she turned her attention toward her co-worker who now occupied the spot next to her. "Sanders…did you have any trouble finding a place to park your clown car?"

"I'm getting the clown thing a lot today." Through a laugh he offered an explanation. "I think it's my shoes."

"I think it's the combination…hair, shirt_ and_ shoes." Leaning past Greg, Catherine informed Tawny, "As his significant other it's your job to make sure he doesn't put those three things together _ever again_. You look WAY too good for him and people will wonder if he's paying you to be on his arm."

Filled with joy, Tawny slipped her arm in Greg's and sighed, "But I love Chuckles just the way he is."

"Oh no." Greg felt the cringe bubble up inside him.

"_Chuckles_?" Catherine repeated. "Oh! That one is going to stick! And how fortunate that I'll be able to share it at the party tonight."

"Sorry," Tawny whispered to her beet-red significant other.

Now that Catherine was done, at least temporarily, hazing Greg, she focused on her assignment. "Would you look at the two of them out there?" She pointed to the field where Warrick was catching Lindsay's pitches and offering encouragement. "They're so into softball and hanging out with each other. Look at the love between them. I bet everyone here thinks Warrick is Lindsay's real father."

Greg absently let the DNA expert in him slip out an opinion. "Yeah…only if they don't understand basic genetics."

When Catherine slapped Greg upside the head she said, "What the hell? I thought we were on the same team?"

"Sorry…you can take the geek out of the DNA lab but…"

"I know why we're here," Tawny stared at the guilty parties. "Nice try. I appreciate it. I also know why Greg stinks at poker."

"Are you mad?" He nervously asked while trying to comprehend how his great plan ended so fast. "I really thought if you saw Warrick and Lindsay together you'd be able to envision…" Turning to Catherine he said, "I think we're going to take a little walk before the game starts."

"Before you do..." Leaning over she informed Tawny, "Another thing to consider is that Warrick only really entered Lindsay's life a little over a year ago. Imagine how strong their bond would have been if he raised her from birth? And if they looked more alike I know people wouldn't think of them as being anything other than father and daughter." Curiosity getting the best of her she asked, "What does the other _candidate_ look like? Does he look enough like Greg so people wouldn't bat an eye?"

Never having told Greg, she replied to both of them. "He's Japanese."

"Oh," Catherine replied as Greg's mouth dropped open. "Then they might notice."

Tawny playfully punched her significant other in the shoulder. "I just said that to get you back for not telling me the real reason you were bringing me here. He was a white with light brown hair, brown-eyes _and _he was an asshole. You have everything but the last trait in common."

"We'll be taking that walk now," Greg announced as he got up. "In some ways…I think my mother was a really bad influence on you, Tawny."

Trying to lighten the mood Catherine teased, "Hey, Chuckles, I hope kids don't hit you up for balloon animals while you're walking around the park. See…you'll make an excellent father, kids always want a dad who can clown around."

"Thanks, Cath." Taking Tawny's hand he led her toward the playground.

In silence they covered the 200 meters and once there, they took a seat on an open bench. Greg, slid his arm around Tawny and encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder.Together they watched the dozen or so kids run around and through the play structure and after five minutes ticked by, Greg quietly asked, "Can you honestly, without one ounce of doubt, tell me that you could terminate the pregnancy without regretting it for the rest of your life?"

Her answer trembled out of her mouth. "No."

"Then why are you even considering it?" Feeling her shake as she watched the children play he said, "Tell me what's scaring you so much that you'd think about doing something you know you'd live to regret."

Choking back her tears for the sake of the children playing around her she confessed, "I'm worried I'll ruin things for you with your dad...and with your life. If I do that, then you'll end up blaming me and the baby. Eventually you might get so angry that you'll want me to leave and I don't ever want to be kicked out in the cold with no place to go again. Without the baby the chances are…" Her eyes came to rest on mother pushing a toddler in a swing. "But you're right…in my heart I know I want the baby even if…I would hate myself if I took the easy way out."

"With you admitting that…" He tipped her chin up to meet his supportive gaze. "…can we agree that the issue has been discussed and the final answer is you're keeping the baby?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I didn't mean it when I said it this morning, but I do now."

After taking a second to acknowledge that Grissom had been right, Greg regrouped. "Sitting here, watching these kids and knowing you have one growing inside you, I'll admit it…I'm scared to death but…I'm also really excited. I know we haven't discussed in detail what I said in my note…and I thank you for not pressuring me about it. But please believe I meant what I said, my future is with you…all of you, _baby too_. I know it's hard for you to trust anyone after everything you've been through, but please try." After taking a quick breath he admitted what was holding him back. "I need to handle things with my dad before I take any more steps forward, okay?"

"Okay."

Holding each other they continued to watch the kids play and after a minute, Greg placed his hand over Tawny's stomach. "Feel anything any different?"

"Yes…" Glancing up, she smiled, "I feel safe."

"Good." He brought his lips to hers. "Because you are s…" Before he could finish, a soccer ball smacked Tawny upside the head.

"Ow!"

"Sorry lady!" The six year old yelled as he chased the ball.

Greg quickly clarified his statement. "What I meant to say is…you're _safe_ as in being loved unconditionally, not safe from bodily harm on this playground full of future World Cup Soccer champions." As they both started to laugh, Greg added, "That kid is lucky I went to Anger Management today or I'd take his ball and give him a piece of my mind for hurting my girl."

Rubbing the side of her head, she laughed harder. "I can hear the news lead-in now…Chuckles the Clown Goes on a Ball-Stealing Rampage at the County Park."

As they laughed themselves into an energetic kiss, an eight year-old boy shrieked, "Ewww! They're kissing on the playground! Ewww!"

Pulling away from Tawny, Greg cheerily informed the lad… "You think that now, but one day in the future…you'll be in my shoes."

The boy glanced down at the man's funky sneakers. "Not a chance."

**The Grissoms'  
****6:48 p.m. **

With the official party starting in less than forty-five minutes, Sara raced toward the bedroom to get dressed.

She had spent the last hour with the caterer making sure all the food and drink was set up properly and had just walked them to the door, ready to handle things on her own for the rest of the night. Having never hosted a real party before, she was excited but nervous. Fortunately only their closest friends would be in attendance and she knew she really didn't have to worry, because they were easy to please when plied with free food and booze.

"Gil!" She shouted as she tore into the bathroom suite.

"In the john."

"That's where I was going," She groaned.

From behind the closed door he answered, "Sorry…didn't receive that telepathic message or I would have held off."

"Do you know what you're wearing?" She asked while dancing with pee shivers.

"No, but I'm sure you know what I'm going to be wearing."

"Black pants…and that new black shirt with the piping." Through the crack in the door she heard him flip a magazine page. "You're reading? I'm out here crossing my legs and prancing while you _read_?"

"Small particle reagent to develop prints on a wet surface."

"Yeah…yeah…" She sought to expedite the process for him by rapidly imparting her knowledge on the subject. "When sprayed on the surface of non-porous wet evidence, the micro-fine particles of the SPR attach themselves to the latent print residues as the solution runs off the surface. If you spray with water to remove excess solution the developed latent fingerprint can be lifted with standard lifting tape. Don't let the surface dry…use a squeegee to remove excess water, that way the tape will adhere to both the surface and the latent print, allowing the processed latent print to be lifted. Okay you're done! My turn."

"Uh…now I'm done with the _article_, but not with _business_."

"Ugh!" Rushing out of the master bath she hurried down the hall to the guest powder room. Once there, she flipped on the light and got down to it. Suddenly it hit her…I had an overwhelming urge to pee! I'm pregnant! No…I just drank two glasses of Iced Tea. Deflated by the false alarm, she grabbed a wad of toilet paper and when she used it, she saw red…literally…a tiny bit…and as she stared at the tinged paper she decided it wasn't really red but more of a dark pink…almost a brown. Repeating the procedure she came up blank. **"Oh!"**

Frantic, she tried to remember what cycle day it was. **18!** Which was _way too early_ to be getting her period. Plus, it never happened this way, there was never only a small amount and then nothing. She always went from zero to gush. "Oh my god!" She shrieked while calculating the number of days since horrible fertility sex. **7!** Which was _exactly_ the right time for a little implantation bleeding. "Oh my god!" Trying to remain calm she asked herself the other pertinent questions. Any cramps? **No!** Any backache? **No!** "Oh my god!" Then it hit her…my boobs feel weird. Or am I imagining that symptom? Quickly she performed a self-check. **Yes! They feel weird!** But how can I trust my overactive imagination?

Deciding she needed a second opinion, Sara flushed and washed then raced back to the bedroom. "Gil!"

Frustration powering his voice he replied through the door, "Would you give me a break, Sara…I'm finishing up here, I swear."

"Hurry up, _please!_" She begged. "I want you to feel my breasts."

A flush immediately followed and a second later Gil emerged wearing his boxers and a smile. "Hold that thought." Grinning, he thoroughly washed his hands.

In the mean time, Sara shucked her t-shirt and bra in preparation for the big test.

With clean hands and an aim to please, Gil slipped his arms around Sara from behind, pulling her back to his chest. "Are you sure we have time for this?"

A few seconds into his task Sara asked, "Don't you want to know _why_ I asked you to feel my breasts?"

He chuckled at the silly question. "I don't need a reason. I'm enjoying it without knowing…actually…" He gave a slight purr. "They feel…that's funny."

"What?" She waited with baited breath.

"A little bigger."

"Yes!" She jumped out of his grasp. "I thought so too!"

"Why did you take them away?" He asked sadly.

"My boobs are bigger and I just discovered brownish blood on my toilet paper…it's way too early for my period and it never works like that anyway. It has to be implantation bleeding!" Overcome with excitement, she grabbed his hands. "Come on, Mr. Biology, you know what's going on here!"

"I need another feel to make sure." Grabbing her, he yanked her close and caressed her body. "Definitely bigger. I know these breasts well…I cherish them…I can say without doubt…they're bigger."

"Let's go to the lab right now and test!"

"We can't…we have a houseful of people coming." Then he reminded her, "And we agreed we were going to do it the old fashioned way…at home the day after you're due to get your period. So it can be special."

"I know we said that _last month,_ but now that it's this month and I could have the answer in five minutes…no, you're right." She nodded. "I want the moment to be special. Maybe I can think of a way to make it special and still use the lab. We shouldn't test until day 8 anyway and today is only 7."

"Okay." Cupping her smiling face, he whispered, "Let's try not to think about it until tomorrow. Just have fun tonight and let it float out of your mind."

"Okay…" Trying to regulate her breathing she occupied her mind with other thoughts. "I'm really looking forward to having my first party ever. Yeah…most people get that out of the way in their early twenties. I hope everyone has a good time. I talked to Nick and Carrie today and they're looking forward to it. Oh and I spoke with Jim. He asked to take me out to lunch next week by the way. He's still bringing Roxie because he said his mystery lady still can't make it. He said she'll be tying up loose ends. What do you think he meant by that?" Shrugging, she pondered aloud, "I wonder what she does for a living? Gil…do you have any idea who it could be?"

"Um…" A quick check of the clock confirmed there were less than 30 minutes to go until party time. Standing in front of him was Sara, on Cloud 9 about the potential pregnancy and her first party and now he was about to kill the mood and ruin all her fun. "Well…" And as he felt the panic rioting within, he heard his father's words, the ones from his, 'does this dress make my ass look fat' example. _He only lied to protect her from having a terrible time at the party. The truth in my scenario wouldn't have helped anything…it would only have hurt the wife and ruined her good time. If he tells the truth, the wife gets emotional. Consequently, she either decides not to attend the party she's been looking forward to attending or, has a horrible time because she feels self-conscious all night._

"Honey?" Sara prodded.

"Um…"

* * *


	3. In the Bluff Part 3

**NOTE: this chapter has been drastically edited to comply with this website's rules. **

* * *

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

"**In the Bluff – Part 3"**

**August 20, 2005 (Day 120)  
****The Grissoms'  
****7:03 p.m. **

When Sara emerged from her spacious walk-in closet wearing a body-hugging silk summer-green and white polka dot halter dress, with a bias-cut skirt ending just above her knees, Gil's eyes popped while his jaw dropped. "Wow." The strappy white sandals with a heel that brought her eye to eye with him and showed off her perfectly polished toes only added to his euphoria. "Wow." And then there was her hair…curly for the first time in a while and fluffed out over her bare shoulders. "Do we have to answer the door when our friends show up? I really don't feel like sharing you tonight."

Even though his answer was broadcast on his face she innocently asked, "So…are you sure I look good in this dress? You know it's only the second one I've bought so I'm a little apprehensive."

It was nice not to have to skirt the truth about the dress as he had about Brass's mystery lady. "You look amazing." And in that moment when she beamed with delight he knew he made the right decision fifteen minutes ago…

"_Um..._ _I'm sure when Brass wants you to know who his mystery lady is, he'll tell you. After all, you kept our relationship from people for a while so who are you to pry, right? You should drop it." It wasn't a lie per say, it was a deflection._

"_You're right. What's with me?" Shaking her head, she reached into a drawer to pull out her curling iron. "When did I become such a gossip?"_

"_Maybe it's the hormones?" A smile of relief broke open on his face. Now the party would go on as planned and he knew Sara was going to have a wonderful time. _

"And you look very handsome." Taking two steps forward, Sara reached out and adjusted the collar on Gil's roguish black shirt. "Won't our friends be shocked when Mr. and Mrs. Sexy answer the door?"

"Maybe they'll think they have the wrong house and leave." Slipping his arms around her waist he pulled her close. "Then we…"

"Back off, Bug Boy…" She laughed. "I'm the hostess and it's T-minus thirty. As we speak, our friends are probably heading out their respective doors."

**Catherine's House  
****7:07 p.m. **

Admiring her reflection in the bathroom's full-length mirror, Catherine asked Warrick, who was nearby buttoning his silk ecru shirt, "What do you think?" While she waited for his reply, she tossed her elegantly straightened red-blonde hair off her shoulder.

The short black and white wrap skirt she was wearing with a tight white knot-front halter top was undeniably pleasing to his eyes. "If you asked me, I'd go out with you."

"Oooh…now there's an offer I can't refuse." After stepping into her dangerous black spiked-heeled sandals, she sauntered over and undid the third button on Warrick's shirt. "Wanna go to a party with me tonight, Stud? It's bound to be a wild time."

"With you there…I have no doubt." As he felt her hands coursing over his designer tobacco-brown trousers he grinned. "Tell me you're not thinking of including Casa de Grissom on our list."

Their 'list' was a unique one…a list of places they had enjoyed _love under the gun_…secretive time-restricted lovin' in populated locales to be specific. An airplane, Lake Mead, a couple of restrooms, a men's fitting room, assorted Jacuzzis, the lab's locker-room shower, the Bellagio, the Mirage, the Mandalay Bay…well, all of the larger casinos in Vegas and a handful of the smaller ones. It was a little fetish they both found exhilarating.

"In Mr. and Mrs. Sexually Uptight's house? Of course not." She flashed him a look that screamed feigned-innocence. "I was thinking of their lovely landscaped backyard. So many bushes…so little time before Sara the germphobe gets suspicious of our absence..."

"Not gonna happen," He warned as he stepped into his rich leather slip-ons.

Sliding on her bangles she cackled as he strolled out of the room. "You know I love it when you play hard to get!"

**Greg's Apartment  
****7:11 p.m.**

Stepping back, Tawny admired her handiwork. Greg's hair…stylishly spiked but not insane. His shirt…the eye-catching white Hugo Boss long-sleeve button down with geometrically arranged petite tie-dyed blue flowers. A shirt his mom had purchased for him during the recent shopping spree at Nordie's. The $155 price tag almost made Tawny keel over but then she realized, when it came to her little boy, Bev Sanders spared no expense either emotionally or financially. There was also no denying it looked great on him.

Lowering her gaze she arrived at Greg's pants…a pair of trendy jeans that fit just right. And his shoes…clunky Kenneth Cole contrast-stitch black lace-up oxfords, which she loved for their slight clownish quality. "Chuckles cleaned up nice."

Pleased with the look of approval on her face, he smiled and informed her of his little secret. "I'm wearing my Abercrombie red and white polka dot boxers underneath so I don't totally lose my sense of self."

After a wink and a smirk she stated, "Maybe later we can clown around and I'll get to see them."

"I'll try to juggle it into my schedule." Taking her hand, he slowly twirled her around. "Now let's talk about you, Miss Tawny Ann Cooper, the new 'it' girl in Vegas." The DKNY form-fitting indigo-denim knee-length mermaid skirt and flirty BCBG silk charmeuse top in crystal-blue chiffon were perfectly trendy yet tasteful. Accented with just the right amount of designer costume jewelry and classy single strap sandals adorned with matching crystal-blue jewels, the package was complete. She looked like a million bucks and would turn every head at the country club should she wear it in California. "I'm lovin' the look. My mother knows clothes, that's for sure."

"She went WAY overboard, but I'm not complaining. My day out with her was the best girls day ever. I can only imagine how spoiled our baby will be! Do you know she's already scoping stuff out…girl stuff in particular."

"See…when we first met I wasn't _really_ bluffing about having a trust fund." Laughing he explained, "My mommy has one and I have an all access pass." He knew his grandparents had left his mom a large inheritance and his dad didn't care how she spent it.

"For the record, I loved you and your mom before I knew that." Smiling wide, she fluffed her hair. "Like the updo?"

The rhinestone clips adorning her hair and the plethora of well-placed tendrils made for a romantically sexy look he couldn't resist. "Oh yeah. Are you bringing this outfit on the road to California?"

"I was planning to, why?" She wondered if he thought it was inappropriate in some way.

"I just wanted to know if I should pack a stick to use to beat the guys off of you." Taking her hand, he led her out of the bedroom. "I hope you don't mind, but I told Nick we'd pick up him and Carrie since you're not drinking and can be their designated driver too."

**Nick and Carrie's apartment  
****7:19 p.m. **

Dressed in black sateen crop pants and a colorful _lace-_trimmed camisole top, Carrie scooted out of the bedroom merrily dangling her new black Delman barely-there high-heel sandals which were adorned with two satin ribbons.

"Hey there, shoe-freak," Nick teased from his position on the couch watching Sports Center where he had been planted waiting for her for a half an hour. It had only taken him three minutes to mindlessly throw on his favorite pair of black pants, the new Tommy Bahama quartz silk-blend polo Carrie had bought him for a birthday present and his 'date-night' black loafers. "How much did those sexy little sandals set you back?"

"$225…" She confessed while stepping into them. One glance down at her feet and she blissfully added, "…and worth every penny."

"Unbelievable. 225 bucks on shoes you'll only wear a handful of times?" With a smirk on his face he returned to watching the scores breeze across the bottom of the screen. "Maybe it's that cute little outfit you have on distracting me from their worth. Later you should model the shoes…just the shoes...and I'll re-evaluate my stance."

"Aww…are you worried I'll drive us to the poor house once we're married?" Falling onto his lap, she snatched the remote and clicked off the TV. "I have two guilty pleasures in my life…shoes and your body. Don't make me _choose."_

"Roxie…" He warned. "I hate to mess up that pretty lil' hairdo you've got going on with all it's complicated flips and clips. But you know the punishment for giving me shit…I have to tickle you."

"Ah! No!" Belly-shaking laughter ensued. "Oh my god, Nicky, stop!" She pleaded hysterically, "You're too much for this girl to handle! Please! I'll be good, I promise! OH!"

Standing outside the front door, Tawny and Greg exchanged curious looks. Finally Greg suggested, "Maybe we should wait by the car and I'll call Nick on my cell phone so they have time to…"

"_OH! NICK! I'm going to die if you don't stop! Enough already, I'm exhausted!" _

Tawny nodded. "Good plan."

**The Lunar Lounge  
****7:25 p.m. **

Jim Brass, dressed snappishly in black trousers and a royal blue long-sleeve button down, hustled into his favorite tacky out-of-the-way bar looking for his 'date'. "Roxie!" He excitedly yelled from across the room. "Are ya' ready to party, Baby?" He could tell from her outfit…tight leather pants accentuating her still amazingly perky sixty-five year old ass, and her neon pink and black leopard-print blouse, that she was good to go. The ex-stripper, and former call-girl to the rich and lewd, still oozed kink.

"I hope you can keep up with me, Stud Muffin," She taunted in her smoker's voice from her seat at the bar.

If he couldn't have his real woman for the evening, he was grateful to have this colorful character around to shock his co-workers and get some laughs. "You up for the ruse, Roxie?"

"Been waitin' all day," She assured him as she stroked his cheek with her hot-pink fingernails. "You can always count on Roxie to play games." With a wink she cautioned, "But don't get carried away and think I'll sleep with you afterwards, Jimmy. I've got a real date tonight and I'm saving myself."

"Aww…thanks for letting me down easy." Taking her arm, he navigated them out of the bar. "But at some point tonight, promise me you'll grab my ass in front of my friends."

"Like this." She demonstrated her vigorous technique.

"Oh!" He broke out laughing. "Go easy, Baby. I'm not used to being the submissive."

**The Grissoms' **

**7:36 p.m. **

As Sara predicted, Carrie, the consummately punctual, was the first guest to ring the doorbell and when she opened the door, her friend cheered, "Sara, you look fantastic! I've never seen you in a dress!" Then after giving her a tiny hug, she stepped inside. "Thanks for having us over."

Greg and Nick, standing with Tawny, stared in disbelief until they simultaneously remarked, "Whoa." It was highly odd seeing Sara look so feminine and carefree.

Taking a good look at Tawny, Sara proclaimed, "Wow…I love your new look." There wasn't a hint of the old, '_got some money to stuff in my g-string?'_ vibe. "You look great!"

"Thanks!"

Sara wondered why Nick and Greg were still standing in the doorway dumbfounded. "Would you get in here already?"

Stepping forward, Nick gave her one of his trademark bear hugs.

"Ow!" Sara exclaimed as he pressed his rock-hard pecs to her chest. "Oh my god!"

Carrie's face twisted as she jokingly asked, "Nicky, what the hell did you do to her?"

"I just hugged her," He innocently explained as he pulled back. "I guess I don't know my own strength."

"Her boobs hurt!" Tawny blurted while pointing to Sara who she saw had reactively placed her arm over her chest. "Did it work this month? I hope so! It will be so much fun to have someone pregnant with me!"

Just then Grissom showed up in the hall. "Sorry I had a call." Then he noticed the odd looks on everyone's faces. "What were you discussing?"

"Your wife's breasts," Greg nonchalantly answered. Which he couldn't help but notice looked undeniably larger than normal. And since he had spent years staring at them, he felt quite certain his observation was accurate. To be absolutely certain though, he'd have to see her bend over while wearing her jumpsuit a little too unzipped.

As if it were the most normal thing in the world to say, Sara turned to her husband and related the missing information. "When Nick grabbed me and pressed his rock-hard body to mine I shrieked from the pain he inflicted on my chest. Isn't that great!"

Under the circumstances Gil couldn't deny the excitement. "Yes! Now maybe we should let everyone in the house and talk about something else." When he got a good look at Tawny he lit up. "Look at you."

"Do you like the new me?"

"I've always liked you," He politely answered. "Your new look just suits you much better."

Sara broke out her hostess smile and scooted everyone inside.

"Hold the door!" Catherine shouted as she strutted up the walk with Warrick on her arm. "It's not like you can start the party without me anyway. Wow…Sara's playing dress up for the second time in her life!" When she got to the door, she blurted, "Did that dress come with free boobs?"

Warrick couldn't help but notice Sara looking a little more plush than normal. "You look very nice, Sara."

"Thank you." The attention was starting to flush her cheeks. "Okay, let's get this party going." Taking her hostess role seriously, she led the way into the great room. "The bar is set up on the kitchen counter. Food, which I did _not _cook myself before you start cracking food poisoning jokes, is on the island and the pool as well as the Jacuzzi are off-limits _unless_ you're wearing a suit and controlling your primal urges."

Catherine whispered in Warrick's ear, "It's like she's challenging us. I love it."

"Wow, Sara," Tawny expressed her amazement at the elaborate set-up. "You really know how to throw a party."

Those _in the know_ cracked up and Catherine quickly explained, "This is only the second time she's ever had a gathering. The Grissoms are notoriously anti-social people. Last time it was brunch in April and we spent half the time harassing Nick about looking like a love-sick puppy."

Wrapping his arms around his fiancée, Nick gushed, "It was the morning after our first date."

"Awww." She snuggled up against him. "You were that pathetic, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Catherine quipped, "Yeah, but now the two of you are old news so we'll spend tonight picking on twitter painted Tawny and her love struck goofball…_Chuckles._ Yes, it's her pet name for him and now…it's ours too._"_ As predicted, the unveiling of the new nickname got a loud reaction.

"Now that you mention it," Nick observed, "Your shoes are a bit clown like."

"Hey, call me whatever you want." Greg took Tawny's hand and gave it a squeeze. "As usual, I make no apologies for who I am. And as far as ragging on me about being a love sick fool…knock yourself out, because I've been waiting a long time for my turn. As the night progresses and my veins start to fill with alcohol I fully intend to make a fool of myself." He brought Tawny's hand to his mouth and planted a kiss. "Because I'm madly in love with this smart, witty, beautiful woman and I guarantee it will show."

Carrie smiled approvingly at the public display of affection. Greg was starting to look and sound less like Peter Pan. On the ride over, she and Tawny sat in the front leaving the guys in the back of Tawny's Ford Escape, and at a stop light, Tawny leaned over and whispered, _he told me he loves me, and the other day, he wrote me the sweetest note I could ever imagine. I've never been happier._

Catherine sighed at the sight of the young lovers. "It's definitely time to start drinking."

Nick plopped a box with a bow on it down on the counter. "Gris, you'll want to open this then."

"Give him our gift too, Warrick." Catherine instructed as she headed to the bar with Sara, anxious to see Gil's reaction.

"And we have something special too." Greg tossed two wrapped boxes tied together next to the other gifts on the counter.

"You didn't have to…"

"For god's sake, just open them, Gil," Catherine prodded.

"I'll wait for everyone to grab a drink."

Sara finally remembered her hostess duties. "Beer and wine is in the fridge…several varieties. Ice and everything else is on the counter."

Nick didn't waste any time lending a hand. "A glass of wine for my lovely bride to be and 'Rick…Greggo…oh sorry…Chuckles, a brew to start with shots to follow?"

"Sounds like a plan," Greg confirmed. "Tawny…what virgin delight would you like?"

Catherine pounced. "You mean now that she's had you?"

Tawny giggled at the joke and then Sara offered some real direction. "How about a cranberry and soda with a twist of lime? It's my drink of choice tonight."

"Okay." Catherine clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "We need to agree on something. Carrie…Tawny…I'm not sure you know this so I'll tell you. For five excruciating years we all had to sit around and not talk about the elephant in the room…Gil and Sara's secret unrequited lust and love for one another. Now, there's a new elephant…a baby elephant…and I need to know from our dear hosts, are we supposed to pretend that we don't know or suspect that Sara's trying to get pregnant, or can we just stop the bullshit and put it out there?"

Gil and Sara's eyes locked and their smiles unfurled in unison. Sara took that as a yes from her partner. "It's true…we're trying, we won't deny it. So uh…feel free to annoy us."

"Thank you," Catherine rejoiced as she filled two tumblers with ice. "Nicky, I'm assuming that's scotch in the box for the birthday boy?"

"You know it." Pouring a glass of Pinot Grigio for Carrie he said, "Glenfiddich Ancient Reserve, I know what he likes."

Gil smiled as he unwrapped the tall box. "Thank you. It's one of my favorites."

Catherine returned with the two glasses and took the bottle of out of his hands to open it. "Gil, you and Greg have been under **_a lot_** of stress these past few weeks and therefore I feel obligated to get the two of you as shitfaced as possible."

"I've never seen Greg drunk before," Tawny remarked much to everyone's surprise.

"Then you're missing out," Sara quickly informed the naïve girl "Trust me, until you've spent a drunken night with Greg and woken with him in the morning, you haven't lived."

A hush fell over the room.

"An _innocent _drunken night!" She quickly corrected. "Brass was there too."

"So much for us believing the innocent part," Catherine quipped as she poured a couple of three finger drinks.

Nick handed a full wine glass to Carrie and Heinekens to Warrick and Greg, while Sara gave Tawny her virgin cocktail and kept a second one for herself.

Once everyone had a drink in hand, Catherine raised her glass of whisky. "Thank you, Sara for allowing us to invade your home every four months. And to Gil…you're wearing 49 well. Happy Birthday."

"Happy Birthday!" Everyone cheered then drank.

"Thank you," Gil graciously acknowledged the group. "Okay…I'll open Catherine and Warrick's gift next because I'm sure it will be embarrassing and give you all a good laugh."

"That's the spirit, Honey!" Sara was pleased he was loosening up a bit.

"They're books." Catherine cut the suspense. "Ones we suspected you didn't have in that enormous library."

Displaying them…Sex and the Aging Male and Sex over 50, he blushed, "I think I'll be taking you up on your offer to get shitfaced because it's the only way I'll be getting past this."

Lowering his beer, Warrick confessed, "Sorry, Gris…she made me sign the card and since we have that I'm the boss at work, she's the boss at home thing going on…I was powerless to resist."

"Oooh! One of our gifts will work well with the books," Tawny excitedly announced, sparking everyone's curiosity.

Gil reached for the last package and unwrapped the two gifts…Boggle and a Magic 8 Ball.

Perplexed, Sara asked, "Okay…which one goes with the books?"

Catherine replied, "Let's put it this way…I've never played Boggle."

"Ahh."

Greg leaned over and whispered in Sara's ear. "Magic 8 Ball…commands…you know like…_my answer is NO!_"

"Oh." She smiled. "Got it."

A ring of the doorbell caused a flurry of comments about Jim's tardiness.

"I'll get it," Sara announced as she hurried for the door.

After savoring the bold flavor of the Scotch, Gil erupted into a smile. "You know how to pick 'em, Nicky."

"Ain't that the truth," Carrie teased. "So, Gil…my fiancé with the good taste tells me you know your way around the cards."

"Oh…I don't know." He turned to Greg. "What do you think, you've played with me."

"Fastest 500 bucks I ever lost."

Catherine choked down her whisky so she could retort, "Faster than that time you paid for a Tijuana call girl to…oh wait that was Nick." Catching Carrie's eye she said, "Just seeing how much of a sense of humor you really have, Counselor."

"You'll see me laughing all the way to the bank when I take the pot tonight."

Nick found his fiancée's over-confidence charming. "Don't lose all your shoe money, Sweetheart."

Carrie found her fiancé's lack of knowledge, specifically the knowledge that her daddy was a state poker champion, quite a rush. "I know I'm WAY out of my league, but I want to give it a try, Nick."

"Hey!" Brass boomed as he strolled into the room with Ms. Roxie Delacroix at his side. "NOW you can officially start the party."

Warrick, Nick and Catherine gawked at the wild woman at Brass's side as one resounding question popped into their minds…was she a hire-a-date he picked up on the way over? And how broke was he that he could only afford HER?

"Attention ladies and germs…" Brass gently placed his hand on his date's back. "Gil and Greg, I know you're already acquainted with my date but everyone else, this fine lookin' lady is Ms. Roxie Delacroix…THE legendary Roxie Delacroix who did and still does turn this town on its ass nightly."

Grinning like a Cheshire cat on crack, Roxie eyed the group. "Pleasure to meet me, isn't it?"

Gil put a hand on Catherine's shoulder. "You may have finally met your ego-match."

Sara just stood smiling at the spectacle. "What can I get you to drink, Roxie and Jim?"

Nick and Carrie turned to each other and tried not to laugh from hearing the name Roxie.

Brass produced two wrapped boxes. "Some of this Glenmorangie 15 year old Scotch for the both of us, thank you very much."

"Yes!" Grissom yelped like a teenager in the midst of a fantasy. "My favorite…no offense, Nicky."

Nick gave his best political smile. "Hey, the last thing I want to do is outshine my boss's gift, so I purposely took the middle ground."

Carrie smiled at her man…always so calculating and in control. Yeah…it was going to be a blast taking his chips and watching him squirm. It would almost be as fun as watching his reaction when she came home with a pair of $250 sandals and told him his loss funded them. "You're such a savvy guy, Honey," She whispered in his ear, making sure her lips grazed his lobe.

After Sara handed over the tumblers of Glenmorangie she directed, "Enough talk…everyone into the living room and let's get this game going. I can't wait to see how quickly my husband takes your money…" Grinning she said, "…because hopefully I'll have a baby who needs a new pair of shoes in the future!" She was pleased when everyone egged her on.

When the chatty crowd migrated into the living area as instructed, they saw the rented poker table in the middle of the large room.

Having planned a lot of the party with her co-worker ,Sara informed the group, "First let me introduce you to tonight's Dealer…my Dales Trail hero and everyone's favorite clown…Greg 'Chuckles' Sanders."

Gil quickly retorted, "How am I supposed to focus when he's at the table bouncing around and jabbering?"

Sara wasted no time with her reply. "I had to make it challenging for you somehow, Baby."

"OH!" Nick raised his glass. "That's a pet name. We drink!"

Apparently Gil and Sara were the only ones who didn't know their co-workers had devised a little drinking game based on them. "Excuse me?"

"We have a little game going on here," Catherine advised. "Just be yourselves and we should get hammered quickly."

"Anyway." Placing her hands on Greg's shoulders, Sara said, "But before he takes his place at the head of the table, Chuckles will set up tonight's musical entertainment."

"No…no…no," Warrick protested. "I can't stay if we're listening to Greg's music all night. Not unless you're giving out ear plugs as party favors."

"Chill, dude." Greg held out his hand and Tawny gave him four CDs from her purse. "Unlike some people…" He glared at Catherine. "…I never make anything just about _me._ If you don't believe me, feel free to ask my very satisfied significant other." He was pleased to see Tawny nodding vehemently. "I specifically burned these CDs with all of you in mind…assessing each of your musical tastes, thinking of your individual characteristics and putting something special in the collection for every _couple._"

"This I gotta hear." Nick groaned. "You think you have all of us pegged, huh?"

"Oh yeah." As he approached Grissom's stereo he gave the first example. "Mr. Warrick Brown…an Alicia Keys man through and through and I'm not sure if the rest of you are aware, but for your own safety I will inform you…no one turns down the volume on Alicia."

"See…the boy knows what he's talking about," Warrick asserted as he polished off his first beer.

"Thank you. And you'll find plenty of her tonight, my friend." Then he glanced over at Nick. "Mr. Stokes…I know you're all about Nice Guy Rock, not, 'I hate my daddy' hard core rock. Oh yeah…it's filling your ears while you pump up at the gym and it's blasting in your car on the way to your latest outdoor adventure. So for you I have some Incubus and some Hoobastank…classic examples of post-grunge proto Arena Rock. Catherine to translate for you…they're the equivalent of your generation's Journey."

"Watch it, pal," Catherine warned. "You keep that kind of talk up and you won't be able to father a second child."

Nick couldn't deny Greg pegged him. "But what about Carrie…you barely know her."

"Ah…but I do," He explained with a glint in his eye. "She's got the hard-ass prosecutor thing going on by day, but I know what lurks beneath. She secretly loves 'Calgon Take Me Away' Romantic Escapist Tripe…specifically show tunes and pseudo-man crooner types like Clay Aiken. I bet she saw Cats twice and loved it."

"Hey!" Carrie gasped. "Did you sneak a peek at my collection when you were over last Sunday!"

"Maybe." He chuckled as he continued to load the discs. "Or maybe I just have a gift."

Tawny giggled. "He's gifted, trust me!"

"Do me next!" Catherine demanded.

Brass, who was standing behind her, whispered, "You say that with such ease, like it's not your first time uttering the words."

Greg eyed Catherine with a knowing gaze. "Smooth Jazz…nothing with an edge. Music that presents no challenge or concept…just a sweet center…like a s'more without the graham cracker."

Sara cocked her head. "How can you eat a s'more without the graham crackers? You'd burn your fingers."

"Are we sure she can't drink?" Brass inquired, hoping Sara wouldn't be quite so literal all night long.

"You got me." Catherine nodded. "How did you figure me out, Greg?"

"I just picked whatever my mother would like."

"OH!" Nick instinctively ducked. "Sanders is a _dead man!"_

"Hey!" He corrected, "My mom is a music teacher and has very refined taste like the lovely Ms. Willows."

"Nice save," Grissom toasted his protégé and polished off his glass. "And, Sara…where's that bottle of Glenmorangie?"

"Is he ordering the little women to fetch him some whisky?" Brass asked in disbelief. "I always thought Sara was the dominant in the relationship." He was happy to see everyone else nod in agreement.

"It's his party," Sara reassured him as she hurried to the kitchen for the bottle. "One night as boss is my gift to him."

"Sara said BOSS!" Nick reminded the group and they toasted.

"Tell us Sara's musical style," Grissom inquired as he watched his wife grab the bottle and his friends laugh at his relationship.

"Sara…Sara…Sara," Greg mused. "She's all about 'I respect the strong female viewpoint' music. Lilith Fair Rock…you know…women singing to women about women, or women singing to women about men who have wronged women."

"What!" Sara blurted from across the room.

"Uh hello?" Greg needled, "Indigo Girls? Melissa Etheridge? Sheryl Crow? Tori Amos?"

Sara returned to her husband's side and handed over the Scotch. "Fine, you got me."

Greg grinned with satisfaction. "Music for girls who want to have fun, but more often than not, find themselves puking up angst!"

"Yeah…sounds like pre-Grissom Sara to me," Warrick announced. "What about Mr. Jim Brass?"

"Sinatra, Baby." Greg stood confidently. "Who else for a fellow Jersey born smooth talker who doesn't take crap from anyone? And obviously, by the woman on his arm…a self-professed ladies man."

"Sanders just got himself a raise as soon as his red-flag is removed." Brass held up his glass and then shoved it toward Grissom to fill it.

"Roxie…" Greg smiled. "Don't worry, I've got something out-of-this-world on here for you because I know about you your proclivity for Lunar-themed dive bars. And Gris…since your usual Classical genre would bring the party to a grinding halt, I had to find other music…you'll know it when you hear it. You'll all know when you hear your special songs." With that he walked over to Tawny and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I saved the best for last." He felt Tawny's whole body smile. "The lovely Ms. Tawny Cooper. Here are a few things you don't know about her. She studied ballet for a decade and made her stage debut as a mouse in Cinderella. When she was seven she dressed as the Little Mermaid for Halloween and growing up, she had a closet full of princess-wannabe wear, complete with a full line of wands and tiaras."

Gil smiled, knowing exactly what Greg was trying to achieve…painting a more innocent picture of his partner in the eyes of those whose first stories of her were drastically different.

Greg wrapped his arms around his girl. "So Tawny's musical favorites are songs that include words like…dream, wish, heart, love and forever. Tonight I have something very special for her included in the mix, which I'll be waiting for her to recognize and I also have the debut of what I think should be _our_ song."

"And what about you, Greg?" She asked in a dreamy tone, totally wowed by his words.

"The first song is mine…it fits my mood perfectly. So, how about I fire up the stereo while everyone grabs another round, and then I'll deal the cards? 'Cause I can't wait to see someone else take my 500 bucks from Grissom."

The crowd quickly complied, scurrying to the kitchen for cocktails and while they did that, Greg held onto Tawny's hand and pressed play.

A second later, the crunchy power chords of The Darkness's out-of-control love song, _I Believe in This Thing Called Love_ filled the room.

Cupping Tawny's face with his hands, Greg said, "See…I told you it fit my mood perfectly." And as the lead vocalist shouted out the lyrics, Greg boldly stole a deep kiss.

Nick was the first to catch the smooch. "Hey who had money on Sanders getting the first kiss tonight?" Everyone raised their hands. "Okay, so that's a wash."

**_Forty minutes later…_**

Nick sat staring at the pile of chips amassed by his fiancée. "Where the hell did you learn to play poker?"

"I read a book yesterday," She sweetly answered. It was the truth, she had read a book…a legal text. Her answer was completely unrelated to poker. "I can't believe the luck I'm having!"

Grissom didn't buy that bluff for a minute and had already determined Nick's girl was the only true opponent…not that he was going to enlighten his co-worker about his fiancée. Roxie had some potential to take a few hands, as did Brass. But, Nick and Catherine would definitely be the first to fall.

Catherine snarked, "Carrie, I know you're relatively new to the group, so here's the way it's supposed to work…I'm always the center of attention."

Roxie snickered, "You can take the girl off the stage but you can't take the diva out of the girl!"

Brass loved the playful friction between the dueling ex-dancers on either side of him.

"You know it, Baby." Cath clinked her glass to hers. "What did you used to pull in a night back in the day?"

"In today's dollars…I'd say fifteen-hundred." Roxie proudly boasted, "Ten minutes in the VIP room with me and guys left changed for a lifetime."

"New hand!" Greg announced, trying to get the ex-dancers to stop their stroll down the side of memory lane. "Is everybody ready to donate more money to Carrie Blake's wedding fund?"

Carrie smiled…at both the idea of winning more and Greg's stealthy change of topic.

When no one moved he dealt their pocket cards. "Place your bets…still holding with a two-chip blind and ante…all-ins welcome. Starting with the Bug man."

Meanwhile in the dining room, Sara, Warrick and Tawny were playing their first Boggle game.

When the three minutes were up, Sara excitedly held up her list. "I got 42 words, including 6 five-letter ones and 1 six-letter!"

Warrick and Tawny exchanged glances and simultaneously said, "Game over."

"Wait!" Sara asked as they got up from the table. "Don't you want to play again?"

"I need to feed the baby!" Tawny pointed to her stomach.

Taking her arm, Warrick said, "I'm going to make sure she gets to the kitchen without fainting."

As they passed by the poker table, they heard Nick, shout, "Hot damn, woman! You're a shark in disguise. I thought we're supposed to disclose everything before we take that stroll to the altar?"

"Nicky, it's just dumb luck." She smiled sweetly.

Sara approached and placed her hands on her husband's shoulder. "Can I get you anything?"

"Sara touched her husband!" Nick announced. "That's a chugger."

After everyone downed their drink, Brass explained to Roxie, "Gil and Sara never touch in front of others. We didn't see them playing tonsil hockey until the entire state saw them on TV."

"I saw that kiss," Roxie cackled. "The tongue action shocked me. Never would have thought Gil had it in him based on my first impression."

"When did you first meet him?" Carrie asked.

"I lived across the hall from Sara and caught him hovering outside her door calling her name." She winked at him. "You looked like a hurt little puppy when I told you she went off with another man, but ya got the girl in the end, didn't you Hot Lips?"

Fueled by a half-bottle of premium whisky, Gil cockily replied, "Did you ever have any doubts?"

To which Brass, Catherine, Greg and Nick screamed, "YES!"

Grissom raised a brow. "Let's get back to the game, shall we? What time is it?"

"8:40," Carrie quickly answered.

"My gal always knows what time it is," Nick teased his punctuality obsessed fiancée.

"In a minute, it's going to be time to take more of your money!" Under the table, she kicked off her shoe and reached across to run her toes up his leg.

"Who has the cold feet?" Brass calmly inquired.

"Oh!" Carrie snapped back her foot and jumped up from the table. "I uh…need more wine."

When the song changed, Greg glanced over at Catherine waiting for her reaction. Her immediate fluster to Alicia Keys' _Fallin'_ was just as Warrick had predicted when Greg asked him for their song a few days ago.

"I'm out!" Catherine announced as she strutted away from the table to search for her man.

"Where is she going in such a hurry?" Sara asked.

Roxie, the all-experienced, kindly answered, "To powder her nose."

"Oh." Sara shrugged. "I really wish she wouldn't be so self-conscious about her appearance amongst friends."

Nick, Brass and Greg burst out laughing while Gil smiled as his booty call-naïve wife's lack of party knowledge. Not that he had more direct experience than her, but as a man frequently trapped in rooms with Nick and Warrick, he had been privy to a lot of talk over the years. Based on the stories he heard, he figured the Pool House would be the prime love locale this evening.

One of the wonderful features of the Grissoms' house was the elaborately wired stereo system. If desired, the music playing on the stereo could play through the speakers in every room's ceiling as well as out of the speakers on the pillars of the back patio and in hidden speakers throughout the backyard. To set the party mood, Sara had clicked on this feature before the guests arrived.

When Catherine reached the kitchen, the lusty lyrics of Fallin' drifted through the speakers like a siren's wail.

Much to her disappointment, she only found Tawny snacking on carrots and dip. "Have you seen Warrick?" She asked in a pant.

In between a nibble, Tawny pointed to the back door. "He said something about checking out the Pool House?" A devious smile popped up on her face. "Don't worry…I'll run interference."

"I love ya', Tawny!"

Picking up another carrot, she giggled. "That seems to be going around!"

Traversing the manicured landscape in her high heels, Catherine rushed to the small building next to the illuminated swimming pool. And when she threw open the door, she saw Warrick leaning against the wall in the near darkness. "What took you so long, Baby?" He asked in a guttural tone while making sure she saw he had unbuttoned his shirt to the belt. "I had Greg play our song and I've been waiting for you to come."

In a flash they were together, arms and mouths locked.

"I forgot they had a Pool House," Catherine breathed out before inhaling for the next round of passionate kisses.

While wrapping his fingers around the hem of Catherine's skirt, Warrick brought his lips to her ear. "Tell me what you want, Baby."

Back in the house, Sara hurried into the kitchen sure she wouldn't find Warrick and Catherine. "Ugh! I knew it! They're outside tainting my Jacuzzi, aren't they?" She inquired of Tawny who was grabbing a piece of cheese.

"Actually, they were here but then Catherine's phone rang…Lindsay had an issue. They stepped outside for some privacy. I hope it's nothing serious."

"Oh." Sara felt bad for thinking the worst of her lusty friends. "Me either." And just as she was about to head to the back door to check on them she heard Tawny make an offer she couldn't refuse.

"Sara, wanna talk about pregnancy stuff?"

_

* * *

Pressed against the wall, Catherine shuddered with excitement. "You were bluffing earlier when you said this wasn't gonna happen." _

"Maybe I still am," He replied in a tone as sultry as Alicia's. Then he made it perfectly clear he wasn't.

* * *

In the kitchen, Tawny jabbered on to her _enthralled_ audience of one. "So after my boobs started killing me, the next day I began feeling these really odd sensations down below..."

* * *

Catherine purred, "No one knows how to love me like you do, Baby."

"Has anyone ever?" Warrick rasped as the body heat between them boiled over.

"Never!"

_

* * *

Sitting at the poker table, Greg hoped that his friends knew that Alicia's song lasted a very short three minutes and thirty seconds because if they took too long, their mood might be impacted by the next song he had pre-programmed...The Itsy Bitsy Spider. _

Sitting at the poker table, Greg hoped that his friends knew that Alicia's song lasted a very short three minutes and thirty seconds because if they took too long, their mood might be impacted by the next song he had pre-programmed... 

Looking over at Grissom, Greg said, "This is one of yours in case you didn't guess."

In the kitchen, Sara and Tawny were still shooting the breeze when Catherine and Warrick strolled in looking no worse from wear.

"How's Lindsay?" Sara immediately inquired, hoping her friends wouldn't have to leave so soon.

"She won her softball game today," Catherine answered truthfully. "Shouldn't you be filling your husband's Scotch glass, Sara?"

"Right." She grabbed the bottle and darted for the poker table.

Tawny grabbed two plates and extended them. "I bet you guys are hungry."

**_Another forty minutes later…_**

With Catherine out of the game, the five remaining players and Greg sat around the table snacking and drinking while the others lounged around on the couches doing the same.

After pounding his third tequila shot of the night with Greg, Nick exclaimed, "Wait a minute…I always have Sunday's off but, you're well on the way to being shithoused, Sanders, and you have to work in the morning. It's Nightshift's weekend off and you switched to Days, remember?"

Brass glared at the boys. "Tell me that's not really happening."

"No worries," Greg assured the boss man. "Sofia volunteered to take my shift so I could party."

"Why would SHE do that?" Nick asked incredulously, still suffering from PTSD…post traumatic Sofia disorder.

Roxie curiously inquired, "Does this Sofia have the hots for ya', Chuckles?"

"What's that?" Tawny perked up like a terrier who saw another dog getting close to her bone. "Is this someone I should worry about?"

Nick, Brass, Gil, Greg and Warrick all shouted, "No!" Before sharing a hearty booze-fueled laugh.

Catherine patted Tawny on the arm. "Let's just say that Sofia is the opposite of you in many ways. While you exude enough warmth and bubbliness to melt a polar ice cap, Sofia is the reason the cap froze in the first place."

"Ahhh…" Tawny relaxed against the cushions.

When Greg heard Incubus's, Wish You Were Here coming to an end, he grabbed the stereo remote from the table and jumped up. "Okay this next song, while you might initially think it's meant for Tawny, it's not. For those who suffered over the years, you'll know exactly who this next one is for." With that he clicked on the stereo and let Vitamin C's 2005 updated reggae-funk version of The Little Mermaid's, Kiss the Girl start to play.

Before the first lyrics, Catherine began laughing. "Lindsay has this CD and I know _exactly_ what song this is and it's for everyone's favorite _dysfunctional dater_…**Mr. Gil Grissom**!"

"This CAN'T be happening," Grissom moaned as he lifted his tumbler.

Nick slapped him on the back. "That's what Sara said every time you walked away without kissing her!"

"You tell him, Nick!" Sara shouted.

They all listened to the lyrics and made random comments.

"POSSIBLE she wants you too?" Brass shook with laughter. "The only way it could have been more obvious would have been if she rented space on the marquee at the Mirage spelling out, GIL, KISS ME YOU FOOL! SARA."

Sara choked out, "I actually looked into that but it was too pricey for my County salary."

The five large glasses of premium liquor didn't help soothe the embarrassment mounting within Gil. "Greg…the only reason I'm not going to kill you is because of that baby Tawny is carrying."

"Look who's not paying attention at _Anger Management_ class!" Greg jumped up on his chair. "Okay, who's gonna sing the **'kiss the girl'** part with me and _really _get on his nerves!"

Sara, having been on the receiving end of the 'will he or won't he kiss me' torture for years was THRILLED with this hazing. Elbowing Tawny she said, "By the way…I think Greg just entered the zone I was referring to earlier. Greg is normally a goofy free spirit with _way_ too much energy…drunk Greg however…makes normal Greg seem tired and shy. He's capable of saying anything when he's in this state." Then Sara yelled over at her mortified husband, "Don't look at me to bail you out, I'm going to sing the loudest!"

They all sang, "Kiss the girl!"

Greg gave a shout out. "That was not nearly loud enough people. Remember the suffering we endured and let it fuel your voice!"

And then they sang a little louder, "Kiss the girl!"

"Much better!" Greg raised his Heineken bottle. "Now, let's keep singing until he gets off his ass and actually kisses her NOW."

Louder still, _"Kiss the girl!"_

Sara stood up and opened her arms. "I don't know about you but their singing is hurting my ears. Let's end it!"

When Grissom stood up the guests started clapping and Brass yelled out, "Don't get your hopes up people, he has a rep for backing down at the last minute, cough**TAHOE**cough."

"Kiss THAT girl!" They demanded.

In the center of the room, Gil took his wife in his arms and much to everyone's delight, planted a long, slow wet one on her.

Very pleased with the outcome, Greg lifted his beer. "This is the wedding kiss they denied us after all those years of waiting for them to get their act together. Selfish bastards."

In the midst of the catcalls and claps, Catherine leaned on Warrick. "Why the hell didn't I think of pouring a bottle of good Scotch down Gil's throat before locking him in a room with Sara and looping this song in on a loudspeaker?"

Warrick offered an explanation for her slow thinking. "Lack of oxygen to the brain resulting from the absence of a fantastic lover rockin' your world nightly?"

In the background Greg's voice boomed. "Fear not people! There's more to come!" He pointed to Tawny. "Don't worry, your song is coming up soon, Princess. Then later, you'll hear _our _song."

Warrick whispered in Catherine's ear. "I have fifty bucks that says Sanders gets so plastered that he's on one knee proposing to Tawny before the night is out."

Smoothing her hand over his back, she asked, "You jonesin' a little?"

He grinned. "Just a bit."

Catherine returned his grin, "You're on. My fifty says he won't."

Finally Grissom came up for air. "How was that?"

Roxie was waving her hand in front of her face. "It worked for me, Hot Lips."

Looking at Gil, Sara chuckled, "What she said."

* * *


	4. In the Bluff Part 4

**NOTE: this chapter has been drastically edited to comply with this website's rules. **

* * *

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

"**In the Bluff – Part 4"**

**August 20, 2005 (Day 120)  
****The Grissoms'  
****9:27 p.m.**

Grissom, Roxie and Jim, having folded, sat back watching the remainder of the hand play out between Carrie and Nick while one of Catherine's songs played in the background, Sade's Sweetest Taboo.

"And now for the river," Greg announced as he turned the fifth and final community card. "Queen Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. There's a lady who knows the meaning of _taboo_."

Gil shook his head. "Thank god you're good at your day job, Greg, because you wouldn't last an hour dealing on the floor of any casino."

Brass quipped, "He might be successful at Circus Circus."

"You boys stop pickin' on Chuckles," Roxie cackled. "I think he's cute."

"Thank you, Ms. Delacroix," Greg replied while getting completely squicked and consequently chugging his latest beer.

Nick and Carrie intensely stared at each other across the table until she finally said, "What's on your mind, Tex? Are you mulling over your…_choices_?"

Her comment was the final straw. "I'm all-in."

The party goers gathered around to see who would win the lovers' battle.

Carrie matched the bet. "I think you could pretty much count on that move since I have six times the chips than you. So let's see that winning hand."

Nick produced his flush and a smile. "Read 'em and weep darlin'."

"I'm reading them…" One by one she turned her cards…two queens. "And yet, no tears. How can a boy from Dallas be so bad at playing Texas Hold 'Em?"

"And the lady has four of a kind!" Greg enthused. "Mr. Stokes is out of the game courtesy of his fiancée. I'm thinking the future Mrs. Stokes won't be gettin' any lasso lovin' tonight. And Carrie, you really couldn't ask for better timing for your win, because here comes your song…a tune only a girl enamored with show tunes and cowboys could love." The giddy-up sound of Surrey with a Fringe on Top from the musical, Oklahoma filled the room.

"Awww…" Carrie gushed. "I love Oklahoma!"

Nick shook his head. "She takes my money and she chooses _Oklahoma_ over the grand state of Texas. What's next in your line up of torture, Sweetheart?"

A second later, Nick and the party guests found out the answer when Carrie started singing.

With high school drama queen enthusiasm she sang, "Cats and dogs'll dance in the heather, birds and frogs'll sing all together and the toads will hop!"

Nick grabbed Greg's arm. "Fast forward this and I'll make sure you get the prime assignments all week."

Without hesitation, Greg clicked it to mute. "Just remember what this clown did for his Ringmaster."

"Hey!" Carrie was disappointed her song ended so abruptly.

Nick smiled at his buzzed fiancée. "Trust me…you'll thank me later, Sweetie."

In a tipsy confession Carrie giggled, "That reminds me of what you said on our first night together, Nicky."

"OH!" Brass gasped. "We got some overshare!"

Catherine the ever-curious asked, "Did you thank him later?"

"Look at him…what do you think?" Carrie gave her fiancé a come-hither stare.

"Time for a break!" Greg yelled, sensing Carrie and Nick needed a moment alone and knowing he wanted one with Tawny. He skipped to the next song. "Roxie, you space-scamp! This one is yours." When Peter Schilling's space tune,Major Tom, sounded over the speakers, the partygoers blasted off in several directions to be alone with their significant others.

Sara slipped onto her husband's lap. "Having fun?"

"I'm having a great time. Thank you for giving this party and making me attend. I love it…I love you," He answered without hesitation. "And that not just the bottle of Scotch talking. Although, I wouldn't be saying these things with you on my lap, in a house full of our friends, without the Scotch. What was I saying? Oh…are you having fun?"

"A blast," She joked in reference to the song. "Now that you're no one's boss at work, you can relax a little more around our friends. With that said…I dare you to kiss me again." Uncertain if it was her statement or the Scotch or a combo thereof that provoked him, Sara found herself consumed by her husband's kiss once more.

Grinning at his wife, Gil whispered, "How are your boobs feeling?"

"Big…tingly…achy…"

"Stop!" He pleaded. "You're one word away from a full systems launch."

"Plump."

_

* * *

_Standing outside the guest powder room, Greg waited for Tawny to emerge. "I didn't want you to miss your song…it's next." Taking her hands, he pulled her close, nuzzling her into his chest. "Are you having a good time?" 

"I'm really feeling comfortable with your friends," She admitted for the first time. "Between hanging out at the softball game today with Catherine and Warrick and now this party, it really seems like they're accepting me."

"Why wouldn't they?" He asked in a haze. "You're fun and funny…you're everything I've ever wanted in a woman." Staring at the love of his life through Tequila eyes, he said, "I really want to spend…Tawny, I…"

"Sanders!" Catherine shouted from the end of the hall. "We need you and Tawny in the living room ASAP." The night was still young and she'd have to watch the drunken love-struck loose-lipped fool like a hawk.

"What?" Greg asked as he approached his co-worker.

"Have you tried the bean dip?" She asked. "It's really good."

"Huh?" He gaped at her. "That's what was so urgent?"

Tawny smiled. "I had some. It is really good!" Taking his hand, she led him toward the kitchen.

* * *

In the darkened empty room at the end of the hall, Nick and Carrie spoke heatedly in between urgent kisses. 

"I can't believe you kicked my ass at poker," He declared while smoothing his hands over the sateen of her black crop pants. For a reason beyond his grasp, he found her win over him a huge turn-on.

"I hope you won't hold it against me later," She teased while tugging his polo out of his slacks.

"What are you doing, Baby?" Flustered he broke into a chuckle. "We're not at home."

"I just want to run my hands over your strong, muscular back, that's all." And as she did as she craved, she sighed with pleasure. "You know how much winning a court case turns me on? Winning at poker has the same effect. And that wine is really good. I can't believe I downed a whole bottle by myself."

Having enjoyed her case-winning euphoria several times, Nick found her statement incredibly arousing. Suddenly, he couldn't believe what he was contemplating with his _future wife_, especially with his co-workers nearby. Old Nick wouldn't have thought twice about partaking in this adventure, but the New Nick…the responsible fiancé and supervisor who respected the future Mrs. Stokes above all else, knew better. Of course, both the old and the new _cerebral _Nick shared the same human body with the same primal urges, urges that in his experience, were always a little stronger when fortified with Tequila and beer.

"Do they have the air conditioning turned off in this room?" Carrie rasped.

"It was cold when we came in here, but now…hey, darlin' what are you doing…this isn't…" New Nick continued to apply the brakes, although it was getting very hard to focus on the line between right and wrong with Carrie gently scraping her nails over his back and deepening her kisses. Apparently excess wine consumption and poker was his future wife's secret aphrodisiac combo. Before he knew it, he was making a mental note to buy _and fill_ a wine rack before bringing home a new deck of cards. And when Carrie slid her hands around to his chest he asked himself…is it **so** wrong for Old Nick to come out and play with New Nick's fiancée? "Uh…did you lock the door?" That was sneaky party love rule number one…always lock the door. He learned that the hard way…twice.

"You're not suggesting…"

"Sorry, I…" His words were halted by her eager mouth. And just when he knew with certainty they would be delving into the risqué, the music changed. But it was a good change! The new song had a smooth piano lead in and he thought for sure it would set the perfect mood. Well, maybe it was a bit slow, but it was better than the space song. He made a mental note to thank Greg for the stimulating programming. That is until Carrie heard the opening lyrics soulfully sung.

"Awww…" Carrie's passion instantly melted into sweetness. "It's a contemporary version of A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes from Cinderella! This has to be Tawny's song. Isn't that sooooo sweet! Greg is trying so hard to make her forget her sleazy past and bring back the innocent Tawny. Gosh…I love this song. It reminds me of being a little girl playing princess dress-up."

As if Carrie's manic mood change wasn't enough buzz kill, she had to utter the words sweet and innocent along with painting an image of her as a little girl. Now Little Nick was retreating, Old Nick was pissed, and New Nick, who had gotten his hopes up too, made a mental note to kill Greg as soon as he had the chance.

_

* * *

When he saw Catherine sticking to Greg and Tawny like a fly to honey, Warrick asked Roxie to distract his mate. And as soon as Catherine was in Roxie's clutches, Warrick was pleased to see Greg fleeing out the backdoor with Tawny. With Greg head over heels and the full moon bright, he could almost feel the fifty bucks in his hands._

"I love my song," Tawny confirmed in a sigh of pleasure as she and Greg stole a moment alone on the back patio.

"And I love you," Greg easily admitted while coaxing his lips down to hers.

_

* * *

_While everyone else was occupied, Jim Brass sat alone in a deck chair by the illuminated pool. He had fled the house upon hearing the unexpected song. It was tugging at his heart strings in the worst way, and there was only one girl on his mind…Ellie. 

"_Daddy…" She asked while spinning around in her Cinderella costume. "Can I be a princess when I grow up?" _

_Kneeling down before his six year-old daughter he assured her, "You can be anything you want Sweetheart."  
_

"_Then I want to be a princess." _

Staring at the water gently lapping against the pool walls, he wondered what his errant princess was doing tonight. As he had done many times over the years when this mood struck him out of the blue, Jim grabbed his cellphone and punched in her number.

"You know what to do," Her voice instructed after three rings.

"Hey, Ellie…it's me." The message was always relatively the same. "Just checking in…reminding you if you need anything all you have to do is call. Of course, you can call if don't need anything too. But who are we kidding right? You're not going to call. That's okay. I know you have a lot going on. I just wanted to let you know I was thinking of you and that I'm still here. I'll always be here for you. I just wanted to make sure you still knew that. Take care of yourself, okay. I love you, Ellie." Folding his phone, he reconciled that at least her number was still active and her voice still strong…strong like her will, the iron will that kept her from him. Maybe one day she'd come around, he told himself as he always did after these calls.

_

* * *

_Tawny dreamily stared into Greg's dilated pupils. "So, this is my song and later I'll hear our song." Tawny dreamily stared into Greg's dilated pupils. "So, this is song and later I'll hear song." 

"That's right." As he reached up to caress her cheek, he knocked her earring loose sending it to the ground. "Sorry…I'll get that." When his knee hit the ground, he heard Catherine shriek.

"Greg! No!"

Spinning around, he saw her frantically approaching.

"Don't worry, I found it." Holding the earring he returned to his feet. "You know…you're acting kinda weird tonight, Cath. Maybe too much sun at the softball game?"

**_Fifty minutes later…_**

While Brass's song, Frank Sinatra's My Way, was playing, the poker match continued. It was down to just Brass, Carrie and Gil because Roxie had left five minutes ago in a cab feigning a headache…but really she was on her way to a hot date.

With bets placed, Greg dealt the flop. "Ace of spades…two of hearts…ace of hearts."

Gil noticed a fleeting curve on Carrie's lips. One of her pocket cards had to be an ace and possibly she also had a two. The wine was getting to her and she was losing her ability to hide her emotions.

The three players anted and Greg flipped the turn card. "Four of hearts."

Gil caught Carrie pursing her lips tight. "I fold."

Brass laughed at his friend. "Can't handle what's on the table, Old Man? Well not for me. I'm all-in." Staring at Carrie, he taunted in a pathetic cowboy drawl, "Watcha gonna do now, lil' lady?" When she matched without hesitation, he swallowed hard.

Gil tossed his head back and laughed. "Like the song says, Jim…you might have just bit off more than you could chew."

"And now let's set sail for the river!" Greg yelled as he flipped the final card. "Three of spades. Gather around peeps! It's time…for the showdown. Who will take the pot? The lovely cutthroat card shark Carrie Blake or Old Brown Eyes himself…Mr. Jim Brass?"

Jim flipped his pocket cards…a five of hearts and three of clubs. "So close to a straight flush but alas just a straight."

Frustrated, Carrie slammed her hand on the table. "That really stinks!" Then her face exploded into a smile. "FOR YOU! Because I've got exactly what I'm going to have with Nicky in the next ten years…A FULL HOUSE!" She flipped her ace and two.

"Yes!" Nick smacked his hands together and then yanked his fiancée out of her chair. He was thrilled…not only because she won but because she'd be _twice_ as turned on as she was earlier. "Carrie needs another glass of wine and a fifteen minute break!" It wasn't that he was going back on what he told her about their love life being completely fulfilling. He just didn't realize what it was missing until he had a taste of it. Not that he wanted it to be the norm…just a little treat now and then.

Carrie concurred, "Yes, a big glass of wine to celebrate!" She couldn't remember the last time she had let her hair down this much…or ever. "I'll be in the kitchen, Nicky."

Leaning down, Nick caught Greg's ear and whispered, "Sanders, tell me you've got a good song coming up after this Sinatra snooze fest."

"Lookin' for a little MOOOOOd music, Cowboy?" Very pleased with his joke, Greg broke out into a fit of laughter.

"If you don't want the next decomp case, _Mr. Weak Guts_, you'll stop laughing and give me some good news."

Always one to respond to a threat from a bigger guy, Greg pulled himself together and replied, "Next up is another Alicia song, and the ladies will love it. Be prepared for the pounce! You've got thirty seconds to find a good make-out spot, pal."

"What is this, high school?" Nick laughed.

"No, thank god! In high school I never had anyone to hide with in a dark corner at parties. Holy shit! This is my chance to cross that one off the list." Greg jumped out of his chair and set off in search of his fantasy girl.

Gil continued to console his friend on the back. "Jim…your way didn't turn out so good but don't worry, I'll win your money back from her shortly."

Grabbing his tumbler, Jim left the table grumbling.

Sara tugged her husband out of his chair. "Wanna get some fresh air before the final match up?"

"I'd love to." He stood and when he did, he was a little surprised that he felt the Scotch knocking him off balance. "How much have I drunk?"

"Generally when a person asks that question the answer is _too much_, but it's your party and you're entitled to have a night of reckless abandon every once in a while." Taking his arm, she escorted him. "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

Grinning, he asked for clarification. "Back up…what was that reckless abandon thing you just mentioned?"

By the time the first intriguing notes of Alicia Keys' uber-sultry What a Woman's Worth drifted through the speakers, Brass was alone in the kitchen picking at the buffet while Nick had his worthy woman and her quickly diminishing glass of wine at the door of the Pool House.

Ah…pool houses, Nick had seen the inside of a bunch over the years in Vegas. Therefore, he knew the one thing they usually had was a couch or lounge chair of some sort. "Bingo!" He gleefully announced as he caught the image of wicker couch with cushy pillows. After locking the door, he wasted no time pulling Carrie into his arms and consuming her lips with his.

"Mmmm," She groaned into his mouth as his hungry kiss ignited her body. Required to be a smart, responsible woman every day at work and having a lifelong reputation for loathing players, Carrie couldn't believe how exciting she was finding this scenario…especially the part she was encouraging her fiancé to play…a role she knew he lived for many years with many women.

Then she realized the beauty of the situation…Nick was hers and _only_ hers now, and he knew exactly what a Bad Boy should do and say. It was the best of all worlds…he was a _SAFE_ Bad Boy. Heated by her poker win and the wine, Carrie encouraged her man in a throaty voice. "Something tells me you've done this before at parties, Smooth Stokes."

His eyes never leaving hers, he took the glass of wine out of her hand and stowed it on a ledge without spilling a drop. "You really wanna know?" He was starting to get the feeling she was looking for something different, and with a powerful combination of alcohols surging through his veins he finally didn't feel too inhibited to give it to the future mother of his children.

His voice was as mesmerizing as his moves. "Tell me." Hearing a truthful answer was sure to enhance the pseudo-fantasy.

"_Many _times with many women," He admitted in Old Nick's tequila voice, as he continued to ply Carrie's apparent desire for something naughty. "Mmm…but you're the very last, Baby…and you know what they say…always save the best for last." He accented the statement with a killer smile.

There was no denying he deserved his nickname. "Very smooth."

"Like your skin," He murmured while he drove his hands under the back of her camisole. Staring into her charged brown eyes, he pulled her close and moved their bodies in time with the passionate rhythm.

Her knees weak she was certain she would have been on the floor if it weren't for his strong arms holding her. It was the ultimate '_you **know **you shouldn't be doing this, but you **know** you want him'_ fantasy and it was a completely _secure_ indulgence because this Bad Boy would snap out of the role and be snuggled up next to her in the morning. In her mind she rejoiced over the new duo in her life…a trusting relationship and an active imagination! Breathless from his skilled seduction of her libido, she exclaimed, "Oh god, you're _good._"

"Good?" Taking one step back he let his next line slide off his velvet tongue. "Then maybe I should go, because a woman as wonderful as you only deserves _the best_."

Never had just kisses and words boiled her to such an extreme. It defied all logic that she, a woman with a reputation for hating men who spoke like this, was so turned on by it! The lines were oh…so…BAD. Then she realized why it was working. Bad was what she was craving.

"Does knowing you're not the first woman I've taken a toss with in a pool house bother you?" He taunted, knowing she never wanted him more. "I mean…does my _vast experience_ at _pleasuring_ women worry you?"

"No, I'm not worried…I'm sure I'll benefit from your expertise." As he swept her up into his arms and in one slick move had her on the couch, she purred a little something to fuel his fire, "That's what I'm talking about…bestow some knowledge on me, Stokes."

"Here's my first tip, Baby." Giving over to the naughty side completely, he growled in her ear, "If you like this sort of thing…next party…wear a skirt, not pants. Access issues waste valuable time." Running his hand down her leg, he wrapped his fingers around one of her sexy sandals and pulled it off. In a devilish tone he informed her, "I know how much you love your shoes, Sweetheart. If you wore a skirt…you would have been able to keep them on."

"Damn!"

* * *

Sequestered in their bedroom, Gil and Sara exchanged hungry kisses until they found themselves on top of their bed. "I can't get over how gorgeous you look tonight, Sara." 

Certain that pregnancy hormones had taken control of her body, Sara taunted, "Busy guy…wanna race?"

Knowing his current limitations, Gil informed his wife, "Uh…considering how much Scotch I've downed it would be a marathon not a sprint, but I'd love to cheer you on."

"Actually I do have something special I'd like to try."

_

* * *

_After knocking on the guest powder room and hearing Warrick's voice, Greg hurried down the opposite hall towards the other bathroom. 

"Where's the fire, Chuckles?" Catherine asked when she saw him zip by. Following him down the hall, she teased, "Looking for a bucket of water to throw at the audience?"

Standing in front of the bathroom door he jittered, jonesin' for a Tawny fix.

"Greg…" Catherine, unable to stand the suspense, flat out asked, "Are you going to propose to Tawny tonight?"

"What?" He choked on his laughter. "Hell no! Are you nuts? I'm not proposing to Tawny. Why would you think I'd do something so _stupid?_" When he proposed it wasn't going to be in a drunken stupor without a plan and most importantly, he would have a ring.

From behind he heard the bathroom door open and he whipped around. "Tawny! There you are! I've been…"

"I don't believe you!" She yelled while her heart cracked in two. "You've been leading me on!"

Once the shock of her statement wore off, he snapped, "What! Are you crazy!"

"How could you do this to me!" A second later she was racing down the hall.

Greg filled with panic and looked to Catherine for help. "Why would she say that stuff!"

Catherine filled in the blanks for the tequila-numb fool. "She heard me asking if you would be proposing. Then she heard you say no and refer to the idea as _stupid._"

"But that's not what I meant!" In a panic, he began to explain. "What I meant was…

"Tell _her,_ not me, you idiot!" Catherine pointed in the direction Tawny ran and shoved him.

_

* * *

_

Gripping the wicker of the couch with one hand and Nick's bare shoulder with the other, Carrie breathlessly blurted, "Oh my god!" Just days ago she was hoping tomove beyond her inhibition, but it felt contrived and impossible. Now, out of the blue, it was happening naturally. "Nicky, this is a side of you I've never experienced!" His intensity was exhilarating.

"Yeah, but…" He asked between moves. "…is it good…or bad?" When she didn't answer, he was concerned that maybe he had taken it a little too far. "Good or bad? Let me hear it, Baby."

"Bad!" She gasped. "And it feels oh…so…**good!**"

* * *

"Go to hell, Greg!" Tawny screamed as she fled the house, knowing he was on her heels. 

"Tawny!" Greg squealed when he saw her racing faster through the dark yard. He couldn't believe how adept she was at running in high heels. "Stop!"

"No!" Momentarily halting her dash, she took off her shoe and launched it at his head. "Stay away from me!"

Ducking the jeweled sandal he shrieked, "You totally misunderstood!" For a moment he imagined what his mother would say if the shoe she had purchased Tawny ended up killing her little boy. It wasn't pretty.

"I heard what you said about proposing to me!" She grabbed her remaining shoe, prepared to pummel him. "And I heard Catherine laughing about it too!"

Lunging, he grabbed her forearm so she couldn't flee any further into the enormous yard. "Stop running!"

"Let go of me!" She smacked his arm with her shoe. "Let go!"

"No!" Ignoring the pain of the heel strikes over various parts of his body, he heatedly replied, "Not until you listen to me. You're not going to run off every time you THINK you know what I said. This is just like when the paternity test came up. You didn't give me a chance to explain! You need to _stay,_ and you need to _ask_ me what I really mean if you don't know. And you need to _trust me_! How the hell can you not trust me after everything I've said and done! You need to give me a chance here! Give me a chance!"

"Fine! I'll give you a chance." She smacked his arm hard with her shoe again. "But get your hand off me, _Mr. Anger Management Class!_ I've been manhandled enough to last a life time!"

"Sorry." He released her arm, feeling bad his fingers left an imprint. "I didn't grab you out of anger. I grabbed you because I didn't want you to run out into the dark yard like you were. I've been here during the day…there are boulders, bushes and trees out there and this winding brick-bordered path. I was worried you'd be so upset you wouldn't watch where you were going and you'd fall…hurting yourself and the baby. I was scared."

"Oh." She felt her heart rate start to slow. "I thought you were getting rough."

"Never gonna happen. But while we're on the topic of anger…could you please not lob any more sharp heeled shoes at my face."

In response she lowered her head.

"Are you ready to listen to me?" Reaching out, he slipped his hand into hers.

"Give me another minute to calm down." She dropped the shoe from her hand so she wouldn't be tempted to use it should his answer be pathetic.

"Damn it!" She yelled. "I'm not in the mood for this seductive music! I had to listen to this shit every night when I was dancing. It really gets on my nerves sometimes. Like NOW!" Frustrated, she asked, "Where the hell is the music coming from anyway!"

"That rock." He pointed to a large boulder next to a tree. "It's really a speaker. My parents have the same set-up in their yard. The song is almost over. The next one is Hoobastank, for Nick, you'll be fine." Trying to catch her eye he softly asked, "Are you calm enough to ask and listen now?"

"Yes!" She huffed, realizing from her tone that she was still a little wound up. After another deep breath, she calmly asked, "Okay…why did you say you wouldn't propose to me and that it was a stupid idea?"

"Because I don't want my proposal to be a Krispy Kreme."

"Huh?" It was not the answer she was expecting. "I'm not tracking."

Taking her other hand too he said, "You love that TV show, Perfect Proposal, and that's exactly what you deserve…a perfect proposal. Proposing to you when I'm tanked at a party with no ring would be cheap and tacky…like bringing you Krispy Kremes instead of taking you out for a nice date, was cheap and tacky. So when Catherine asked if I was planning on proposing to you tonight that's why I said it would be stupid. I don't want my proposal to be just another donut in your life." When he saw her smile return it fueled his. "I want my proposal to be…to be an omelet! And not a plain omelet…I want it to have a whole bunch of stuff in it…the works! Because nothing is too good for you!" Now she was laughing and it made his heart soar. "And it should come with juice, toast and hash browns. Wait…not hash browns, they're too ordinary. Country potatoes! You know, the ones cut up into cubes and sautéed with onions and bell peppers then dashed with a little paprika. And pancakes! Not just a short stack, and not silver dollar pancakes. _Huge_ pancakes…the kind that fill up the whole plate! Wow…suddenly I'm really hungry. Are you?"

"Come here, you big goof!" Tawny took him into her arms. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions and I'm _really _sorry that I rocketed one of my sandals at your face and then beat you with the other one. It's not that I don't trust you, I swear I do when I'm thinking rationally. It's just…I guess deep down I'm still such damaged goods I get really defensive when I hear something that sounds like betrayal…I blow. I promise I'll address it at my next session with Dr. Meyers." With a voice full of vulnerability she confessed, "There's still a big part of me that believes I don't deserve to have my dreams come true."

"You know what…don't move." Jamming to the harder edge of a Hoobastank Bad Boy rock song, _Let It Out_, he tore off toward the house. "I'll be right back!"

Grinning uncontrollably, Tawny watched Greg dash away. "OH!" She covered her hands with her face. "Are you okay?" He had tripped over her thrown shoe that was hidden in the grass.

"See I wasn't bluffing! A person can easily fall when running in a dark yard!" Picking himself up off the ground he shouted, "Just stay there!"

"Okay!" And as she stood under the stars waiting for her lovable clown…a sweet, patient guy with a penchant for incorporating breakfast foods in his analogies, she heard the opening chords of a new song float from the speaker/rock. She recognized it instantly because she had the CD in her car. It was Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson's duet of A Whole New World, a recent remake of the song from Disney's Aladdin movie.

When she glanced toward the patio, she saw Greg returning. "Watch my shoe!" She warned as her eyes began to well.

"Right!" He skirted it and hurried toward her.

"Our song is perfect!" She delighted in telling him when he was at her side again. "You really have given a new fantastic point of view."

"I'm glad you think so." Bringing his hands to her face he brushed a kiss over her lips. "This next part…it's exactly how I feel and I hope you do too. Dance with me?" He held out his hand and when she slipped hers into it his, he swore the stars twinkled a little brighter.

_

* * *

In the kitchen, Catherine stood at the window between Warrick and Brass. Having witnessed the lovers quarrel, plus Greg's face plant into the grass and his subsequent frantic rush in and out of the house to change the song on the stereo, they felt compelled to keep watching what was going on outside. _

"They're each other's lobsters," Catherine sighed while remembering what it was like to be so insanely in love for the first time.

Brass shot her a look. "What the hell does that mean anyway? Gil said it when Sara was in Tahoe and I figured it was some science geek thing, but Cath…you're no geek so how do you know about this lobster thing too?"

Warrick smiled as he stealthily grabbed his partner's hand.

"Rumor has it Lobsters mate for life so when two people are each other's lobsters…" She gave Warrick's hand a squeeze confirming she felt the same way he did. "…it means you're perfect partners and by perfect I don't mean physically. It means you get each other when other people don't. You know what makes your partner tick…like Greg knew this song would speak to Tawny's heart, while the same song gives me a cavity." Pausing for a sip of scotch, she watched the oddballs dancing to a Disney song in the yard. "It means you embrace each other's eccentricities and you can handle imperfections other people wouldn't or couldn't. Two people who balance each other out." She gave a little laugh. "Or in Tawny and Greg's case…two people who are SO MANIC they don't think it's odd to be nuts most of the time."

Jim nodded. "I get it now."

"Jim…" Catherine nudged him. "…Roxie's not your lobster but, I bet there's one waiting somewhere out there for you." She grinned, "She'll be a special lady too, because no ordinary woman will do for The Brass Man."

* * *

"There's no going back, Tawny." Clutching each other, they continued to sway to the music, enjoying the sweetness of their first dance together. "It's all about the future." _

* * *

Sara was right…her hormones were out of control. So out of control that when Gil offered to delight her she couldn't resist in a little indulgence. Standing in front of their bedroom's full length mirror with a throw pillow stuffed under her dress, she giggled. "So what do you think?" _

"I think you look beautiful even with a pillow stuffed under your dress." Stepping behind her he wrapped his arms around her and caressed the faux-baby. "But when this pillow is really our child, I guarantee you'll take my breath away every time you walk into a room. I love you, Honey. I can't wait."

With her big pillow propped belly she turned to kiss her husband. "Me either."

* * *

After helping his once again fully-clothed fiancée up from the wicker sofa, Nick caressed her flushed cheek. "It's a dead giveaway walking in with a new hairdo…you need to take a minute and get those flips and clips back in place like they were." 

"And the lessons continue," She purred with satisfaction while watching him search for her hastily discarded clips. "Thanks for sparing me the embarrassment. See…even Naughty Nick is a gentleman."

"Busted." He laughed as he bent down to pick up the last clip.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to say it…even when you're being bad, you're a pretty good guy."

Handing over the clips he cringed. "Well, yeah…you'd think that the rest of the night but, you'd form a new opinion when I didn't call you tomorrow as promised."

"Oh yeah…and if I saw you on the street and you dared to speak to me…I'd kick you in the nuts." While restoring her hair to its original state, she assured him, "But since we'll be waking up in each other's arms tomorrow and for the rest of our lives, I don't ever have to worry about feeling cheap, and you don't ever have to feel guilty for being a cad again. We both walk out of here satisfied and comfortable, right?"

"Right." His smile returned. "Engagement has its privileges."

With a glint in her eye she replied, "And marriage will have more."

* * *

"That was beautiful," Tawny whispered in Greg's ear as the song ended. "Thanks for making dancing innocent for me again. Let's dance the next one too." 

"Uh…actually…"

That's when Boom Boom's theme song started.

Cringing Greg told her, "I knew that was coming up."

"Yeah…we've already done _that dance_ so let's skip this song."

"Definitely!" Laughing, he explained, "This one is Sara's…it's an inside joke. Not about her and I though! So drop your shoe!" He laughed harder when she did. "It's a reference about her and Grissom getting a little crazy in San Francisco a few months ago." Taking her hand he said, "Let's get back inside and see how ticked she is."

Sara flew into the living room passing Brass, Catherine and Warrick. "GREGORY HOJEM SANDERS! Just because you saved my life doesn't mean I won't kill you!"

Greg loudly retorted, "She's definitely pregnant because she's invoking the middle name and copping a maternal tone of disgust! I know that tone well!" Hiding behind Tawny he shook with laughter. "Sara, remember the baby needs a daddy."

Gil, who had just arrived, saw the perfect 'kiss the girl' payback opportunity. "Everyone, sing it with me and mortify my wife!" He was pleased when they eagerly complied.

"Boom Boom Boom let's go back to my room..."

Secretly, Sara couldn't deny it was humorous. "Yeah, okay fine! You're all hilarious." But she tried to bluff. "Sanders, you'll pay for this at work. When we're alone in the field, I'm in charge and I'll have you doing the nastiest of the nasty!"

"Speaking of doing the nasty…" Catherine smirked as only a Bad Girl pretending to be innocent while getting a Good Girl in trouble can. "Are Nick and Carrie **_still _**out in the Pool House?"

"What?" Sara flipped. "Are you saying _DNA transfer_ is taking place in MY Pool House?"

Warrick shook his head and replied in an empathetic tone. "The nerve of some people."

Greg reminded her, "Technically, Sara, you only said the Jacuzzi and the pool were off limits. You never mentioned the _Pool House_."

Tawny sighed, "And he wonders why he got pummeled in high school."

Just then Nick and Carrie strolled in holding hands and looking as chummy as two peas in a pod.

Sara glared at her friend and half laughed. "Carrie, I can't believe **_you _**had sex in my Pool House!"

Frozen in her tracks she gasped, "You can tell by looking at me? But I fixed my hair!"

Greg shook with laughter. "Okay, Sara, now you're REALLY starting to remind me of my mother. You're accusing people of having sex under your roof!"

Nick held up Carrie's left hand. "I'll tell you the same thing that worked with my mom when she busted us in Dallas. Look…she's got a ring on her finger!"

Gil explained the cold hard truth about his wife. "It's not the _moral implications_, Nicky. It's the _germs_."

"Exactly! My husband knows me well." Sara pointed her finger at Nick. "You just lost your Tahoe cabin privileges, my friend."

"Yep!" Greg confirmed. "She's definitely a mom. She's taking away privileges."

Getting into the spirit, Sara yelled, "You're on time out, Greg!"

"Oh no he's not!" Gil directed Greg to the poker table. "He has to deal cards so I can take Carrie's shoe money."

Greg plunked down in his spot. "Now mom and dad are disagreeing on my punishment. Another familiar scenario. Which one of you is going to buy me something or give me a privilege to piss the other one off?"

Settling in his seat, Gil played along, "What do you need, son?" Grinning, he filled his scotch glass.

"A house," He joked, saying the first thing that popped into his head. A couple of months ago it would have been the last thing on his list, but his priorities were quite different now.

"No problem. My old townhouse is sitting empty. I'm hanging onto it as an investment but didn't want to deal with renters." He raised his glass. "You can have it for six months rent-free and I won't have to worry about it sitting empty. You pay all the utilities and the maintenance. That should be long enough for you to get your act together. After that, if you still want to rent it, you can pay a reasonable going rate."

"You're bluffing!" Greg retorted as he shuffled the cards.

"No, he's not." Sara tossed the townhouse keys she had just retrieved from the kitchen onto the poker table. "Mom and Dad agreed on this decision earlier today. We were going to wait and tell you when you were alone but since DAD has been hittin' the bottle hard, he spilled the beans publicly." The moment Greg mentioned that he needed to find a bigger place so his father would believe he had suitable means to raise a child, she thought of Gil's empty townhouse.

Nick jokingly huffed. "So, I lose my cabin privileges but Greg gets a townhouse? Being the middle child really does suck. _I'm _used to being the spoiled baby boy!"

"This has nothing to do with pecking order." Sara chuckled. "Greg didn't defile the Pool House!"

Brass reminded her, "He did puke in your john that night we crashed here."

Sara grinned. "I'll cut him some slack because without Greg…I wouldn't be standing here today celebrating my husband's birthday, having a great time with my friends and hoping I'm pregnant. He helped me when I was in need and now I'm helping him." Trying to lighten the mood she cracked, "Anyway…I have no problem doling out my Sugar Daddy's assets! So take the keys Greg."

"Really…it's too generous. Saving Sara's life was reward enough for me." Greg slid the keys over to Grissom. "And no offense, but you're so plowed you kissed your wife in front of us. In the morning you'll feel differently about this offer."

"I'm sober," Sara reminded him while elbowing Tawny. "What do you think he should do?"

"Oh, it's not my place, I mean I'm just his girlfriend and…" Smiling, she reconsidered, "Well…I do have an idea how to make it better for everyone. Sara…you want to help Greg so you can feel like you've done something as generous for him as he did for you. Gil…same for you, because he saved your wife's life. But you both know he was just doing his job and really all you want to do is help him out."

Sara and Gil exchanged knowing glances.

Tawny glanced at her man. "Greg...you don't want to take a handout and you don't want to be paid back for saving Sara. So how about this….Gil, you make it Greg's dealer tip for the night. Trust me…I've seen some pretty odd tips in my day. It's crazy for the average gambler, but it's not out of the realm of possibility for a high roller. One time this Sheik gave a girl his Mercedes after only an hour in the VIP room. Although, since he paid the club to turn off the security cameras, I'm pretty sure she did more than the standard lap dance…anyway…it's Vegas...my point is, outrageous stuff happens all the time." She finished off her idea with a radiant smile in Greg's direction. "Just a thought."

When Catherine caught Greg's eye she said, "Since I'm all about taking my rich daddy's money, I'm fine with you taking the keys, but as a girl who used to work for tips, I agree with Tawny. Make it your tip. Hell, I think you deserve it for DJ skills alone. I'm sure Nick and Carrie would agree with me that the music has been very agreeable this evening."

Nick gave a thumbs up. "Alicia set the mood, Hoobastank carried us home and the Disney tune wasn't bad for the afterglow. I'd say he deserves it. Take the keys, Greggo." Throwing his arm around his fiancée, he teased, "What about you, Honey? Were you satisfied with…_the music_?"

"_The music_…rocked my world." She felt a blush return to her cheeks. "Take the keys, Music Man."

Warrick, no stranger to Grissom's generosity since he had once received the best gift of all from him…a second chance, wanted to help. "The tip thing is right on. I've seen jewelry tossed by a high roller at a waitress. And Greg's been a hell of lot more entertaining than your average casino waitress, although not as stacked. Take them, Sanders."

Brass quipped, "His hair is as big though. Take the friggin' keys already."

Grissom slid the keys back to Greg. "You've done a great job dealing."

"Okay…okay." Smiling bright, Greg accepted the tip and whispered, "And I know the word _dealing_ has multiple meanings in that sentence."

Carrie took a seat at the table across from Grissom. "I certainly hope you don't think that generous tip will get you good pocket cards."

"Good work, Tawny. I'm liking you more all the time." Catherine threw her arm around the girl and walked her away from the group. "You saved your guy's pride and you got a really cool place to live. That Mercedes story…was it true?"

"Nah, I was bluffing."

"Nice job!" Catherine high-fived her. "Plus, I was going to be _really_ pissed that I never got offered a Mercedes when I was dancing. Because let me tell you…I was good enough to deserve one. One more thing though…you're very good at bluffing and covering. You're not uh bluffing about how you feel about Greg, are you? Because he's a nutjob and frankly…"

Sara came up alongside Nick. "Soooo, earlier today you were worried I knew too much about your sex life but tonight, you go and have sex while I'm in the house. Interesting paradox, Horndog. Let's hope your fiancée wins so she can buy me new cushions for my Pool House couch."

Busted he snarked, "What makes you think I used your couch?"

She winked, "Because I know you're not an up against the wall man, Straight Shooter. The lil' lady needs to be comfortable to get maximum enjoyment."

"Your ability to read me really has me bugged."

At the sound of the famous cockroach song, Gil raised his glass. "Ahh…one of my favorites."

"Let's make him kiss a cockroach!" Carrie suggested while shuddering. "Blech!"

Staring at her Brass deadpanned, "You say that like he'd think it was offensive."

"I hope you're bluffing." Then she glanced over at Gil who was merrily singing along and suddenly she wasn't so sure Jim wasn't telling the truth. "Ewww."

* * *


	5. In the Bluff Part 5

******NOTE: this chapter has been edited to comply with this website's rules. **

* * *

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

**In the Bluff – Part 5**

**August 20, 2005 (Day 120)  
****The Grissoms'  
****11:25 p.m.**

A couple of hands into the round, Gil and Carrie sat across from each other trying to read each other's tells while everyone else watched from the couches and chatted.

Gil studied Carrie's expression but noted she wasn't giving anything away like she had in the previous round. Now her expression was a steady look of bliss and her body language was completely relaxed. He figured Nick must have shown her one hell of a good time in the pool house. Suddenly his whisky influenced brain veered off in a new direction and his thoughts turned inward. Why haven't I ever taken Sara out to the pool house for a romp? Nine out of ten times we're in our bed. We really should branch out more. We did in Tahoe so why not at home too? Now that I know she enjoys skinny dipping, maybe I should take her out to the pool house, get her really hot and bothered and then when we're done, we jump into the pool together to cool off. The neighbors can't see into the pool area and Sara won't have to worry about germs in her own pool…as long as we can keep our guests from defiling it for the remainder of the evening. Yeah…that sounds like fun. I bet she…

"Grissom…" Greg prodded. "We're pre-flop, waitin' on you to post the small blind." The daze on his mentor's face cracked him up. "Uh…in case you've forgotten…this round carries a ten chip minimum ante so you need to toss in five on the small."

"Sorry." He slid the five chips forward and refocused his eyes on Carrie and his mind on the game.

After Grissom moved his chips, Carrie followed with hers and then polished off her glass of wine.

"Time to check your pocket cards!" Greg enthused.

When Carrie turned the corner of her first card she saw a nine of spades and when she peeked at the other, she saw a Jack of spades. Staring at the second card she couldn't help notice the smirk on the Jack's face. Oh yeah…the Jack of Spades looked like a real _Bad Boy_. He had that little mustache curled just right and he was glancing ever so slightly out of the corner of his eye as if to say…I know you're there staring at me, Baby. Carrie answered his call in her mind. Yeah…I know all about your type, Jack. You probably saw a pool house or two in your day, huh? Probably took every one of the four queens there over time. They probably didn't know you were playin' them all either. What a rogue. A rogue like Nicky was playing in the pool house. Hmm…I wonder what Nick would look like with one of those devious little moustaches? Speaking of Nick's hair…I kind of miss his shaved head look…it made him look so bad ass. I know I encouraged him to grow it back for the wedding, but that's not for a little over five months. If he shaved it now he'd still have plenty of time to grow it back. Then I could take a naughty romp with shaved-head Nick. I wonder if…

"Carrie…" Greg tapped her arm. "Decision time."

"Sorry…" She glanced up and saw that Gil had anted and quickly matched.

"Here comes the flop!" Greg announced as he dealt the three cards. "Queen of spades, eight of spades, two of hearts."

Grissom peeked at his pocket cards again, because in his Scotch stupor he had forgotten what they were. Ace of diamonds and ten of hearts…that's right, I have nothing, he reminded himself.

Greg relaxed in his chair with Tawny behind him expertly massaging his shoulders. "Wow…that feels great, Sweetie." And as he enjoyed the rub down, he thought…damn…this dealer/dj gig is the best non-job I've ever had. Not only did I get paid in free rent for six months, I have all the beer and tequila I can drink, a limitless supply of great food, and the hottest babe I've ever had touching me in my life, giving me a back rub. And the best part…I get to go home with her! Oh yeah…looking back on the life and times of Greg Sanders, even factoring in I have at least a dozen bruises from getting clobbered repeatedly by Tawny's sandal, this night kicks ass! For once I'm not just the clown at the party…

"Chuckles!" Carrie yelled, "Are you going to deal the turn card or not? I need skirt money!"

From his spot on the couch, Nick lowered his beer bottle and burst out laughing. "Sounds like my girl has a new fetish! Skirts instead of shoes." Yeah…she has a new fetish…Bad Boy Fantasies and tonight she cast me in the role of the lothario. Damn that was hot. I really didn't think I could get that carried away with her but then again, I've never drunk tequila around her and she was practically begging me to…oh yeah…the look in her eyes while I _bestowed a little knowledge on her_ as she put it…she was loving every minute of it. Look at her over there. She looks like the cat that ate the canary. She's still buzzing from the lovin'. Oh yeah…she's got Bad Boy Nick on the brain and she looks like she's about to explode thinking about what I might possibly wow her with when we get home tonight. Just look at that smile consuming her face…

Smiling at the turn card, Carrie couldn't believe her unbelievable luck and inwardly she screamed with satisfaction. I can't believe it's the ten of spades! Oh my god! I have a royal flush! I can't lose! I feel like the cat that ate the canary! Wait…am I emoting? Damn! Now Gil will know and fold. I'll look at Nick and try to get my mind off the game for a second.

Gil sat back, staring at Carrie. She was grinning like a fool and he wondered why the turn card gave her such a rise. Then he saw her eyes dart in Nick's direction and he followed her gaze. That's when he realized her euphoria had nothing to do with her cards, she was STILL thinking about her time in the pool house with Nick. Then he wondered, does Sara ever hold that happy look for this long after we make love? Hmm…let me think about this. Sure she does. In Tahoe she definitely looked blissed out for hours after we…

"Gris…" Greg patted him on the shoulder. "How about letting us know your plans?"

"All in," He announced in a puckish tone. Carrie wasn't concentrating on the game one bit and he had no doubt she'd match without thinking. Of course after he went all-in he recalled he didn't have much of a hand either.

"I'll match," She immediately announced.

"Really?" Gil played it cool, counting the minutes until he relieved her of eighty percent of her chips. "Let's see the river, Greggo."

"Gather around!" He exclaimed. "It's time for the showdown. If the King of Bugs takes the hand he's in the game and in the lead by far. If the Queen of the Courtroom takes it…she's the champ."

Everyone watched as the card flipped. "Ace of clubs. Let's see whatcha got, Gris."

"Two pair." He breathed a sigh of relief that he ended up with something.

"He was bluffing," Warrick commented, just as he had surmised. "Come on, Carrie. I know you got something better. I've heard on the street that Nick's good, but he's not solely responsible for that look I saw in your eyes when Greg dealt the turn card."

"Hey!" Nick playfully punched his buddy in the shoulder. "You don't know what you're talking about."

And while her fiancé was in denial, she flipped over her pocket cards and yelled, "Guess who's going shopping tomorrow! I'm flushed from the hot Nick lovin' AND with royalty! Now someone tell me how much I've won because I'm WAY too loaded to count."

Tawny instantly answered, "$2,400."

"See how good she is at math!" Greg proudly exclaimed. "Let me tell you…she's an Algebra whiz!"

Catherine winked at Tawny. "Yeah, Greg…that's how she learned to count money so quickly…studying Algebra." As predicted, it went right over his delusional and tequila saturated head.

"A little something for the dealer." Carrie slid two hundred in chips at Greg. "If the baby's a girl she'll need shoes."

"Thanks." Greg knocked the chips on the table. "I'll put it in the baby's bank account."

She winked, "Excellent idea."

Gil extended his hand to Carrie. "Congratulations."

Returning the shake, Carrie beamed. "Now that the match is over, I'll tell you that my dad was a state poker champ. He taught me to play when I was ten. My mom played too and Paul. He dabbles every now and then in tournaments. When my mom got sick, my dad and I used to play with her all the time to keep her mind off her treatments but after she passed on, I stopped playing. This was my comeback."

"Welcome back," He replied, absorbing the information he just learned and adding it to his Carrie profile.

Nick placed his hands on her shoulders. "I can't believe what I'm learning about you tonight. What else don't I know?"

"A woman should always have some mystery," She teased.

Gil absently said what came to mind. "Just ask Jim, he's got a mystery lady of his own." When his Scotch soaked brain caught up with his mouth he couldn't believe what he said.

"Really, Jim?" Catherine's curiosity was piqued. "You mean Roxie was just a stand-in?"

"You're not going to get it out of him." Sara tossed her arm around The Brass Man. "He's not ready to share her with us yet, are you?"

"I thought there was supposed to be cake at this party?" He deflected. "And what happened to the music, Sanders?"

"They wanted it off for the final round." Grabbing the remote he played the song he had cued up. "I had a feeling Carrie would win so I have her favorite pseudo-man crooner, Clay Aiken, ready to sing her a song of celebration…This Is the Night."

"I love that one!" She gushed and overshared freely. "The only thing that gets me hotter than a Bad Boy is a guy who can sing!"

Nick grabbed her hand, yanked her to her feet and whispered in her ear, "Maybe I can take voice lessons from Greg's music teacher mom next time she's in town, and be a double threat."

"Who said they wanted cake?" Sara asked as she carried over a large chocolate-iced cake ablaze with candles and placed it on the table in front of Gil. "Time to embarrass my husband. Make a wish, Honey."

"Let me think…what could I possibly want?" A joyful smile consumed his face as he pulled Sara onto his lap and whispered in her ear, "Wish it with me."

In one exhale the candles were extinguished and their dream fueled a little more.

Lost in the moment, Gil let his words flow. "I love you, Sara."

"Now _that's _a chugger!" Nick proclaimed, raising his beer bottle.

_**Twenty minutes later…**_

At the front door, Sara and Gil said goodnight to Catherine and Warrick while their taxi waited in the driveway.

"Sorry we can't stay longer," Catherine explained, "we have to take Lindsay somewhere in the morning. Great party, Sara."

"Yeah." Warrick nodded. "Don't make us wait another four months."

"We won't," Gil assured him. "We're getting better at this stuff. See you at work on Monday…in your new position."

"Yeah." Warrick nodded. "I won't let you down."

"That goes without saying."

Catherine tugged her man away from the door. "As if I don't already have a cavity from all of Greg's Disney tunes. Night everyone!"

"Goodnight," Sara and Gil simultaneously replied before shutting the front door. Once they realized they were alone in the hallway they took the opportunity to share a passionate kiss.

"Hey!" Brass called from the end of the hall. "Give his tonsils back, Boom Boom!" When they parted he announced, "I thought you'd want to know that Greg and Nick are in your Jacuzzi wearing their boxer shorts so they don't break your nudity rule…well I hope that's not the _only_ reason they kept them on. I'm almost positive you don't have to worry about DNA transfer, but you never know."

Laughing she asked, "Where are Carrie and Tawny while Greg and Nick are getting heated?"

"Talking girly in the living room. Can I please steal some time with your husband so I don't have to feign a passion for pumps or hang with the semi-naked man-boys in the hot tub? Three's a crowd."

"Sure." She pecked Gil's cheek again. "Maybe you can get him to spill about the mystery lady while I hang with the girls."

Once Sara was gone, Gil snipped at Jim, "You! Come with me."

While following orders, he quipped, "I sincerely hope you're not going to spank me with a ruler…I get enough of that at home."

Upon stepping into the living room, Sara saw Carrie and Tawny laughing hysterically together on the couch. "And here I thought shoes were serious business for you, Carrie."

"We're not talking about shoes, Sara," Carrie tipsily informed her. "We're talking BOYS."

"Oooh." Giddy from the success of the night and her husband's love, Sara bounded over and plopped on the couch next to Carrie. "I've never done the guy-talk thing at a party with girlfriends." She chuckled. "Probably because I've never had girlfriends until now…or a guy I was happy to brag about. What's the topic?" Then an alarm sounded. "Wait…this is totally confidential, right? We don't tell our guys what we say or hear, right?"

"What's said between sisters, stays between sisters," Tawny assured her.

Then Carrie slurred, "New topic…most risqué place you've ever made love to your man."

Tawny giggled, "You guys probably won't believe me since you think we're a little _out there_ but…Greg and I have only made love in bed…first mine then his…which I guess is really ours now since we're living together. Not that it hasn't been wonderful! Because it has! It's just always been in bed."

"Until tonight," Carried admitted, "Nick and I have only made love in bed too…well, we tried to make love in the stables at his parents' ranch, but a tornado blew in and ruined it. So Sara's pool house is my answer."

"I'm honored…not." Sara stared at the two younger women and realized she was actually the top dog…the married one, the one with the most intriguing experiences…well, in terms of current relationships anyway, because she knew Tawny probably had ten times as much overall. Never having been in that power position before, Sara couldn't resist flaunting it a little. "Don't take this the wrong way, ladies, but…you should really try to break out a bit more with your men. Gil and I have so many places it's hard to choose…but if you want to get technical as for MOST risqué, as in terms of potential public exposure, I'd have to answer an airplane restroom." Now they wouldn't dare question her forty-nine year old man's abilities without having to go into any detail to prove her point.

Stunned, Carrie said, "You and Gil are mile high members?"

"Just got our wings flying back from Tahoe." She felt a little guilty sharing, but at the same time it was fun to have the sisterly thing going on for the first time ever.

"Wait a minute…" Even though she was blotto, Carrie's legal mind kicked into gear. "You and Gil can utilize a public restroom for pleasure, a place where other people...people like kids and nuns could go minutes later and_ that_ doesn't bother you, but Nick and I discretely use your pool house and it's offensive? Care to explain the hypocrisy?"

Tawny leaned forward to talk to Sara as if Carrie wasn't sitting between them. "I can't believe she came up with argument considering how trashed she is. Here…I'll save you from having to respond to her, Sara. This should be fun." With enthusiasm she grabbed Carrie's left hand and admired her ring. "Carrie, tell me how Nick proposed to you! Every last detail!" It was a bait and switch tactic but also a subject weighing heavy on her mind.

"It was AWESOME!" Carrie exclaimed with the exuberance of a woman who hadn't drunk two bottles of wine in one night for quite some time. "Same night as the failed stable lovin' I mentioned before. Totally shocked me! I don't know how I didn't see it coming. He was so jittery instead of being his usual smoooooth self. Unlike tonight when he was…oh…I'm getting warm just thinking about it. You know I've never done anything like that before because well…I have trust issues…but tonight…" Tossing her sandaled-feet up on the coffee table, she groaned with delight. "I think my whole life changed in your pool house, Sara. I'm a new woman."

Sara leaned forward to talk to her partner in sobriety. "Tawny, now it's my turn to have fun with the drunk. Hey, Carrie…what happened in the pool house that was sooooooo great?"

"You mean besides from having the hottest sex of my life?" She released a naughty giggle. "And I'm talking, the kind of sex I've only seen in movies! Sara, you'll probably find scratch marks in the wicker of your couch. I'm talking HOT!" Glancing over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone, she said, "I was even…_loud."_ Then she covered her mouth and giggled harder. "Wait…wait…I have to ask, do you guys know about not wearing pants to parties?"

Tawny and Sara caught each others eyes and cracked up, instantly confirming that nothing's funnier than hearing drunken confessions when you're sober.

Then Carrie realized she was the only woman on the couch wearing pants. "Catherine had a skirt on too. So I guess _I am_ the only one who didn't know about that! I would have been able to keep my shoes on then." She clicked her sexy sandals together. "But Nicky let me put them back on. See…he's a gentleman even when he's having his way with me like a scoundrel right off the cover of one of those romance novels."

Tawny called over to Sara. "This is too easy. Hey, Carrie…who was on top?"

"HA! That's an easy one…" Carrie choked on her laughter. "Nicky's _always _on top."

"Really?" Sara felt guilty for taking it this far and yet…she didn't redirect the conversation.

The concept was baffling to Tawny. "He _never _wants you on top? Wow. One of the reasons I love Greg is that he _doesn't_ want me on top all the time." She pointed to her chest. "Every other guy has demanded to watch the view from below."

Carrie sighed and looked at her modest B cups. "Do you think it's because of my boobs or lack thereof?"

Sara started shaking with laughter. "Okay, this is getting out of hand."

To which Carrie replied, "Seriously Sara…we're the same size. Does Gil enjoy the view from below?"

"WAY out of hand," Sara clarified, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks. "Let's just leave it at...we have a VERY healthy repertoire." Well, except for the unhealthy flu love last week.

"So, if it's not my lack of…" Carrie pondered the question and while she did, Tawny answered it for her.

"Your guy is a bit of a control-freak, Sweetie." Tawny patted her arm. "Combine that with your sexual repression and BINGO, you're on the bottom night after night. Maybe now, after your life-altering pool house experience, you'll feel relaxed enough to ask for a chance to saddle up."

"Saddle up! HA!" Carrie laughed so hard her face turned red.

"Okay!" Finally Sara showed some mercy. "Carrie, you never answered Tawny's question. What did Nick say exactly when he asked you to marry him?"

"OH!" She bubbled. "I remember every word…"

**_The whole time the girls were having their revealing conversation, Nick and Greg were doing some sharing of their own…_**

"So what did you say when you proposed to Carrie?" Greg asked as he sat opposite Nick in the Jacuzzi.

"Dude, I don't have a clue." Setting his Heineken down, he reclined further into the bubbles. "I was shakin' in my shoes all night. Finally I managed to ramble some incoherent proposal. Then it seemed like time stood still waiting for her to say yes, but I figure it was all of ten seconds before she screamed YES over and over." Grinning, he thought…kind of like tonight in the pool house. He couldn't believe how many times he heard her scream YES!

"That doesn't help me much," Greg lamented before taking a sip of brew.

Returning from the pool house memory, Nick replied, "Here's my advice. Don't plan what you're going to say. I had it all planned out thinking we'd be in Paris and then we ended up in Dallas. So here's what you do…you get the ring and then wait for the right opportunity and when it comes…the words will flow…most likely they won't make any sense, but it won't matter to her because they're coming from your heart."

"Wow…that's deep." Greg set his empty bottle down. "I had no idea you were such a sensitive guy."

"Hey!" Throwing his arms up on the walls of the Jacuzzi he thought…I have my Bad Boy reputation to protect. "Don't call me sensitive…you know how it is, sensitive guys don't get laid."

"Tell me about it," He lamented.

"Well obviously you got some action at least once, Greggo, or Tawny wouldn't be pregnant."

"I meant in high school…and college…and on and off after that," He laughed.

"So what's it like knowing you're going to be a dad in less than nine months?"

"It depends on when you ask me." His honesty flowed as easily as the bubbles in the tub. "Sometimes I'm scared to death and other times I think it's going to be the greatest thing. One thing I know for sure…Tawny is the best thing that ever happened to me. I know that may sound kind of crazy to you considering what I said about her when I was first seeing her, which, for the record, I embellished quite a bit…a lot actually…for my ego and at her expense."

Nick grinned a little wider. "Yeah…like Warrick and I didn't know you were embellishing. We just didn't call you on it because we thought you were due a chance in the spotlight after listening to our war stories all these years."

"Now of course I wish you had told me to shut the hell up." Getting a little lightheaded, Greg opted to climb out and sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi.

"Good idea." Nick took a seat on the edge. "This hot water is boiling the tequila in my veins."

"Damn, what did you do to your left shoulder?" Greg inquired.

Glancing down at the specified body part, Nick was surprised to see nail indentations and scratches. "Whoa."

Greg started laughing. "I think I know where I can find some of your epithelials."

"Damn…I didn't even know she did that." He laughed along with Greg and in an uncharacteristic blurt about his fiancée, said, "What an animal. How could I not know she was doing that at the time?"

Greg held up the bottle they had brought out with them. "_Tequila_ in your bloodstream, Hoobastank blasting from the speakers and your babe begging for more in the pool house…face it, you were in testosterone overdrive and even a full scale 'alien invasion end of the world scenario' wouldn't have made you lose focus."

"True." He lifted his bottle. "Now tell me why you have contusions all over your arm."

"Tawny beat me with her shoe," Greg answered matter-of-factly while taking a sip from the tequila bottle.

"You two are into some weird shit, aren't ya?"

"No." He laughed at the assumption. "She was beating me with it because she was pissed at me and I wouldn't let go of her wrist. She thought I was being a duplicitous asshole and manhandling her, like every other guy she's ever known. It was a misunderstanding…both what she heard and why I wouldn't let go of her. It happened during your pool house grind."

"From what I've seen and heard, Tawny seems really volatile." He quickly clarified, "I'm not judging you or her. I'm just saying I couldn't deal with it personally. I couldn't handle the rollercoaster ride."

"That's cool. Carrie is WAY too controlled for my taste." He passed over the tequila bottle. "No offense but I wouldn't last a day with her."

"Because she'd kill you by noon." After a hearty laugh he took a sip. "I know she comes off as a bit high strung at times."

"A bit? At times?"

"Okay…" He laughed again. "Very and often. But there's no other woman for me."

"I have to say, I'm kind of surprised you'd go for those qualities in a woman since you're such a control-freak. I always thought you'd end up with a less assertive type." Extrapolating he said, "See, I get how it works for Catherine and Warrick…he's so laid back he doesn't mind letting her rule the roost most of the time. When it's important, he speaks up and she's so grateful that he lets her run the show 23/7, she doesn't mind giving him what he wants."

Nick pondered the analysis. "I could see that." In a mind-expanding tequila fog he asked, "How does it work for Grissom and Sara?"

"They're far more complicated," Greg remarked as he slipped back into the Jacuzzi. "They flux."

"Flux?"

"It means to continually change."

"I know what the _word_ means, ya' geek." Shaking his head, Nick grabbed his beer. "What does it mean for _them_?" Immersing himself in the water again, he explained, "I never really put much thought into this relationship dynamic thing."

"Uh…not surprising since you're a _control freak. _What's to think about when you've got everything under control?"

Nick shot his buddy _The Look._

Stepping back into the water, Greg continued his analysis. "Initially Grissom was in control because Sara was desperate for someone to love due to her security issues. At the time we didn't know her story so it didn't make sense, but now that we do it's perfectly logical that she could be so tough professionally, but personally so needy. Once they got together, Grissom filled her security needs while she dealt with her emotional baggage. But then there was a flux…as Sara grew stronger Grissom grew vulnerable. Happened, oh I'd say three months ago or so. If you think about it, I'm sure you'll agree. All along Grissom was needy too, but you know Grissom…he can lock his emotions and needs in a box and focus on the priority at hand. That's exactly what makes him so good at his job…he can compartmentalize and shut down. Anyway…once Sara was healed, he unlocked the box and now it's her turn. She's healing him. They flux, each having a lengthy period in the power position before taking a step back and letting the other take the lead for a while."

"Hmm." Nick replayed Greg's statements in his mind and then said, "So what's your deal with Tawny?"

Grinning, he answered, "We're in a constant state of flux. You could never deal with the mania that is our life. We get a rush after every free fall into Emotion Land. One minute she's beating me with her shoe and the next we're dancing to a Disney tune and enjoying the sweetest moment of our relationship. You'd hate it."

Nodding, Nick admitted his limitations. "Carrie and I got into this, sort of argument, on my birthday and I hated every minute of it."

"Because it was out of control…because _you_ were out of control." Greg grabbed his beer bottle but then realized it was warm and put it back.

"It's not that." Slipping into seriousness, Nick confessed, "I never want to upset her or make her feel vulnerable. Not after what she went through…"

"I can relate because Tawny and she have that unfortunate experience in common. But holding stuff in doesn't work for me. It would make me crazy and then I'd blow. So when I'm ticked, I tell her. It's better to upset her a little right away then dump a ton down the road."

"Yeah well…" Suddenly a new emotion flashed through him…anger, and the alcohol only fueled the fury. "You don't know Carrie's whole story. It wasn't a one time deal. The trauma was…that bastard coach forced himself on her for a god damn year. A year! Had her so afraid to tell…damn it! Every time I think about it my gut twists and I wish he was alive so I could kill him with my own hands."

Greg had witnessed enough severe tequila-induced mood swings in college to recognize the makings of a downward spiral. And Nick definitely had the frat-boy personality to do it well. "Let's uh…try to calm down, buddy."

Greg's request only incited him more. "Calm down? Shit, Sanders, you have no idea what it feels like to be a kid and have someone force themselves on you…to feel that powerless. Have you ever asked Tawny how that felt? And she was a teenager. Carrie was eight. Eight!" In the heat of the moment and never realizing what he was saying, Nick switched from talking about Carrie and spoke with a personal edge. "You have no idea what it feels like to be a scared kid and not be able to stop what's happening to you even though it's killing you. Or what it's like to walk around keeping that kind of secret."

Sitting quietly, Greg began observing as if he were sitting in the interrogation room listening to a suspect.

"All you want is someone to take away the pain, but every time you try to get the words out they get caught in your throat because you feel like if you say them nothing will ever be the same. See…that's exactly what happened to Carrie. In order to stop the abuse she had to tell the truth and almost destroy her whole family in the process. Then she had to live with that _guilt_ on top of what that bastard already did to her mind and her body. That's why some people never tell their families once it's over, not even years later. Haven't you ever wondered about that when working cases? I'll shed some light. It's a choice…you can keep your mouth shut and keep the victim count in your family at one, or you can tell the truth and watch your whole family suffer…and once they know, they'll _never_ look at you the same. Hell of a choice, huh?" Grabbing his beer, he spoke into the rim of the bottle. "First you suffer because you were denied a choice in the matter and then you're faced with making a choice that can destroy people your love…pretty screwed up situation for a kid. Yeah…sometimes I hate choices as much as I hate being denied one."

Realizing now there was more behind Nick's snap than Carrie's abuse history, Greg decided it was best to let him keep venting unless he started really getting out of control. And as he absorbed the information in silence, he began considering new explanations for Nick's controlling personality, his womanizing, and his immediate and intense attraction to Carrie.

After a brief pause to polish off his beer, Nick continued with the story. "When Carrie finally got the courage to tell her big brother he went nuts, blaming himself for not noticing…he was with her at swim practices …he thought he should have caught it. He didn't understand that these sick freaks know how to hide it real well. He does now though. That's why Paul is so overprotective of Wendy and the kids…shit, if something happened to one of them, I don't know what he'd do. And Carrie's dad…hell, it almost killed him. At least they got some justice when the scumbag got convicted…after going through the tortures of a trial of course." Shaking his head, he lamented, "They were all in therapy for years. Her dad still can't deal sometimes…that's why he can't watch her handling these types of court cases. Deep down I know he wishes he could have strangled the air out of that bastard. I know how he feels too. I just want to protect her from ever feeling pain again." His voice turned icy. "And if anyone ever lays a hand on her while I'm alive…they're never seeing the inside of a courtroom. Not a chance. And you know I have the skills and the knowledge to get away with it."

"Okay, uh…" Trying to think of a way to bring Nick back from the darkness, Greg commented, "I'm really glad Tawny has Carrie in her life. She's a great role model for her because Tawny still lets her baggage influence the way she thinks about herself…like she believes she deserves to be abused or not have hope for the future." He thought it would be enough of a hook because it centered around the one thing most important to Nick.

"Don't worry…Carrie will get her to drop the victim-think." Breathing deep, he ran his wet hands over his hair and worked to lower his blood pressure. "Yeah…she's really good at that. I love her for that." After climbing out of the water, he relaxed in a deck chair. "And she likes Tawny...more than she likes you, man. Sorry…although I must say, you're doing a decent job of winning her over, which is no small feat. Really it's my fault she has a problem with you, because I told her some of the ugly stuff you said about Tawny and then the whole baby thing happened…"

After a deep breath, Greg asked his burning question. "Straight up, tell me if you can ever get past what I said about Tawny and see her as something more than…"

"It's ancient history as far as I'm concerned." He could tell Greg was beating himself up over the issue. "You know what I really think when I hear Tawny's story? I think her story could have been Carrie's if she didn't have parents and a brother who supported her through her nightmare. Hell, look at Sara. She's lucky she got in the foster system and had a decent experience after she didn't have any place to go, or Tawny's story could have been hers too. And regardless of how you and Tawny hooked up, I'm glad she has you takin' care of her now because you're a good guy, Greg and that's what she deserves after all the shit she's been through. You know I'm being honest because I'm too hammered to lie. And sorry…I didn't mean to get so heavy about Carrie's past. It sets me off."

"No problem. Totally understandable. After all, I almost lost my job for punching Hodges over what he said about Tawny, right?"

"Right."

"So don't worry that you got worked up, you're in the company of a friend." Realizing his pal had indirectly confessed a hell of a lot of deeply personal information without knowing he did, Greg didn't reveal he figured it out. Instead, he mentally filed the information and moved on. "It was the tequila…it's legal truth serum. But you know me, I think it's good for the soul to get a little out of control every once in a while." Hoping to get some levity back, he dangled the bottle. "But it hurts like hell in the morning."

"Exactly. We're not twenty anymore and used to doing this every weekend …we're gonna be dying tomorrow. Which means tonight when I get home I need to fit in as much fun as possible." Feeling a sudden turn, he laughed, "Although I know my controlling fiancée is going to get my ass up to go to church. Maybe I can tell her Bad Boys don't go to church on Sundays and she'll cut me some slack."

"You're going to church every Sunday?" He queried in surprise as he stepped out of the water and took a seat in the chair across from Nick.

"We have to keep up appearances because we want to get married there. Actually, Carrie likes going with her brother's family, so I do it for her…see I'm not _that _controlling." He laughed at himself. "Yeah well, maybe a little…I was apparently a bad influence on her and she only stopped going when we started staying up late on Saturday nights…_talking."_

"Talking…right. Tawny and I prefer passing the time playing Boggle." They shared the laugh that time. "Hey, about the church thing…my mother threatened me that I can't marry Tawny in a drive-thru chapel. But my parents aren't religious, so I'm not sure what she's looking for. The beach? A city park? What?"

"You're jumping the gun there, aren't ya? Not to mention, Tawny, not your mother, should pick the spot, don't you think? You're such a mama's boy, Sanders. Have you even looked at rings yet? I can help you with that…unless you think I'll be too _controlling_."

_**And while Nick and Greg were talking in the Jacuzzi, two other guys were busy with a discussion of their own…**_

Sitting in the two leather reading chairs in the library, Gil and Jim each clutched a tumbler of a scotch.

"I had to deflect her question tonight, Jim and I'm not happy about it." Gil shook his head. "I didn't do it to save your ass either, I did it so I wouldn't ruin her good time."

"We're having lunch next week and I'm telling her then." He paused for a sip. "It will give me a little time to think of my approach."

"What the hell have you being doing all this time? You think on your feet every day, Jim." He wasn't happy. "This takes you weeks?"

"It's like going up against the firing squad…you don't want to rush into the experience." He swirled the whisky in his glass. "How the hell did I get in this deep with Heather anyway? She makes life incredibly complicated for me."

"Is that rhetorical or are you expecting an empathetic response?" Feeling loose from the booze, he spoke without filtering. "Why didn't you just buy a sports car?"

"Finally!" Raising his glass he exclaimed, "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to throw that pan of hypocrisy pie in my face. The suspense was killing me." Reaching over he clinked his glass to Gil's. "Thanks for stepping up to the plate."

"It's usually not my style but, I'm feeling a little mischievous." He snickered into his glass. "That's why I hope all you nice people get the hell out of my house soon so I can be alone with my wife."

_**Twenty minutes later…**_

Having listened to Carrie and Tawny ramble on and on about proposals, weddings and honeymoons long enough, Sara was ready to spend some _quality time_ with her husband. Standing up she announced, "Hey, while I'm in the bathroom, why don't you two go see where your guys are. We've been talking a long time and I bet they miss you, don't you think?"

Being a former party girl, Tawny recognized last-call when she heard it and she turned to Carrie to translate. "Mrs. Grissom's horny. We need to go."

"Hey! It's not like I'm insatiable," Sara laughed. "I'm not the one who already saw action in the pool house. Speaking of which…Carrie, aren't you dying to go home and don your spurs before that righteous wine buzz wears off and you lose your sexual superpowers?" Although she was joking, she was glad Carrie finally managed to break out of her box…even if it was at the expense of her couch pillows.

"Sara's right!" Taking Tawny's hand, Carrie leapt off the couch. "Let's go."

As soon as they were out the back door, Sara hurried to find her man.

After knocking on the library door, she entered smiling. "Hey there, Honey." She crossed the room and stood next to her husband. "It's getting late. The others are getting ready to leave."

Standing up, Jim placed his tumbler on the desk. "This sounds like a booty call to me, Boom Boom. And since you spent a great time at the Lunar Lounge telling Sanders and me just how nuts you get when you're in the mood and your man is unavailable, I'll fear for my life if I don't take off ASAP."

Sara didn't dignify the truthful comment with a lie. "I bet Tawny wouldn't mind giving you a lift so you don't have to wait for a cab."

"Jesus, Gil!" Brass laughed, "I hope you're up for what she has planned. She's practically throwing my ass on the street."

Finishing his drink, Gil thought…no, that'll be next week when you drop the bomb.

And while Sara was expulsing the guest in the library, Tawny and Carrie were in the back yard standing next to the empty Jacuzzi which was surrounded by three empty bottles…two beer, one tequila.

Perplexed by their absence and more so by the two piles of clothes Nick and Greg had been wearing, Carrie asked, "Where do you think they are?"

Tawny casually replied, "Foolin' around in the pool house."

"HA!" Carrie cracked up. "Okay, Greg might swing both ways but Nick…never. Plus, he's engaged."

"You think so, huh?" Tawny cracked up and headed for the small building. "Well the pool house is where the laughter's coming from so I'm guessing that's where I'll find Chuckles."

Together they hurried down the path toward the pool house and when they opened the door they saw Nick and Greg using an ALS in the darkened room.

"What are you doing?" Carrie asked before noticing Greg wearing his Abercrombie red boxer shorts with large white polka-dots. "Chuckles really wears clown underwear!" And the fit of laughter began.

"She's toasted," Tawny informed the guys while stealthily sneaking a peek at Nick in wet navy blue boxer-briefs, which she couldn't help notice were plastered against his body. Her curiosity piqued, she decided to have a little fun. "Nick, we need to get your woman home. You know…she's _really_ ready to go to _bed._ That's all she was talking about in the living room…how much she wanted to _fall into bed_. Just look at her, Nick. She's totally _out of control_. She's _WILD_ with emotion. You should have heard her discussing _honeymoon _plans…and all the things she wants to do with you. Gee, I hope you can _handle her_ in this _passionate _state." Her mouth curved into a smile when her work was done and her suspicions confirmed…Greg had at least an inch on him.

Greg threw his pal a pool towel. "Down boy! Not in front of the lady and baby."

Carrie was already sitting on the floor consumed with laughter but that threw her into the abyss.

Tawny asked her favorite clown, "What are you really doing in here?"

Turning the ALS on again, he explained as if it were completely normal, "We knew Sara would be out here in the morning checking for evidence so we broke into Grissom's supplies and grabbed his ALS to come out here and cover Nick and Carrie's tracks." Shining the light on the couch he said, "See…no more evidence. But just when we thought we were done, I happened to shine the light over here." He pointed the light to the floor, under the opposite wall. With Sherlock Holmes intensity he informed her, "Someone else visited the pool house tonight."

With the towel wrapped firmly around his waist, Nick announced, "I think it was Roxie and Brass. We swabbed it, Greggo's gonna test it on Monday. Then we'll have something to hold over the boss's head. HA!" He pointed to Greg. "I said…"

"Good one, Beavis!"

"Beavis!" Carrie choked on the name. "That's a nickname with no role play potential at all."

In that enjoyable position of being the only sober one in a room full of idiots, Tawny took the light out of Greg's hand and clicked it off. "Sorry to disappoint you sick pups, but it's not Brass and Roxie. It was Warrick and Catherine."

"Well that's no fun!" Nick exclaimed. "Everyone knows they have sex anytime, anywhere."

"Ah!" Greg was able to see an angle. "But when Sara busted you, Warrick pretended to be disgusted by your behavior. He even made a crack."

"That's right!" Tawny helped out her man's challenged memory. "He said…_the nerve of some people_. Oh, he's going down!"

"Butthead! Your future wife just said…oh shit…I meant girlfriend."

Greg smothered Tawny's lips with a kiss then said, "I love how you're willing to ignore what Nick blurted and pretend that you don't know what I talked to him about in a drunken stupor."

"Any time, Baby." She took his hand. "Okay, Nick, scrape _your future wife_ off the floor and fulfill your inner-Neanderthal fantasy by throwing her over your shoulder and carrying her inside. Greg and I will collect your clothes and meet you there."

_**Five minutes later…**_

Sara watched Nick, swaddled in a pool towel, drop Carrie on the couch. "_Again _with Carrie in the pool house!"

"What?" He noted that she was referring to the towel. "No, I was with Sanders in the pool house this time."

"OH!" Brass smacked his hands together. "Gil, that's twenty you owe me!"

Gil yanked out his wallet. "Damn, I can't get lucky tonight."

Sara softly whispered in his ear, "I see a change in your immediate future."

Just then, Greg returned and tossed Nick his clothes stating, "I'm spent. Get dressed so we can get out of here quickly."

"OH!" Brass covered one ear and one eye. "That is a line straight out of a nightmare I once had about the two of you."

Sara nudged The Brass Man. "I had that one once or twice myself."

Greg chimed in, "So did my dad."

"Enough already," Nick grumbled as he headed for the bathroom. "I'm not dropping the towel and showing my skivvies with you perverts watching."

When Greg saw Tawny grab her purse, he held out his hand. "Gris, I've got one more present for you." He took the CD Tawny was extending. "Since neither you nor Sara would tell me your song, I had to pick one. Don't play it until we're gone."

"Now I'm concerned," Gil revealed as he accepted the CD.

Greg pulled him aside, "Nah…you'll catch my drift a minute into the song. This CD…" He tapped it in Grissom's hand. "…it's not a push-push pool house bump…it's totally classy. Trust me, I haven't gotten one wrong tonight, have I? So, here's the deal. You have five minutes of light instrumental jazz to give you time to get wherever you want to be and set the mood. Then your song plays…at first it will blend with the instrumental jazz but 45 seconds in…lyrics start. It's four minutes long…total slow-danceable should you be so inclined. After that you've got a sophisticated mojo-inspiring mix to give you all the time that you need…or up to sixty minutes, whichever comes first. HA! Sorry."

"Sounds perfect, thank you." Grissom grinned approvingly while plotting the right locale for his foray. Unfortunately, Greg kept yapping.

"Gris…don't waste that CD though…I mean…you can always save it for another night. Because, I'm a little worried about you… you drank a hell of a lot of scotch tonight. Don't play the CD unless you can um…live _up_ to its potential. Because personally…after the hefty quantity of tequila and beer I guzzled, I know I'm sitting out of the game tonight. Which is actually fine by me because tonight isn't about sex for me…it's about making Tawny feel sweet and loved."

Gaping at the music-man, Grissom shook his head, "Thanks for your concern. Sorry to hear about _your problem,_ but I really can't empathize." Breaking into a grin reflective of the possibilities coursing through his over-stimulated brain, Gil said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get out of my house. This is why I don't like guests…they interrupt spontaneity. I don't want to wait. I want to see what happens when I play the song right now."

* * *


	6. Close Encounters Part 1

******NOTE: this chapter has been edited to comply with this website's rules. If you would prefer to readthe original version please go to the author page and click on my homepage link. It is Chapter 68: Close Encounters - Part 1.**

* * *

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

**Close Encounters – Part 1**

**August 21, 2005 (Day 121)  
****The Grissoms'  
****1:17 a.m.**

Thrilled that her first party was a smashing success, Sara stood in front of her bathroom mirror glowing with satisfaction as she freshened up her appearance. Well, the party's success wasn't the only reason for her bliss. She knew Gil was off somewhere concocting a little surprise for her. Whatever he was planning, she knew two things it wouldn't be…ordinary or involving the defiled pool house.

Reaching for her bottle of Sugar Cookie lotion, she applied it generously and recalled her words from the first time Gil reacted strongly to the powerful scent…_ So when I want you to come running to me, I know what to do…douse myself with sugar cookie lotion. _As she massaged the sweet cream into her skin she heard light jazz music begin drifting through the speakers and knew it meant he was on his way to retrieve her.

Twenty seconds later, Gil was in the doorway of the bathroom eyeing his wife with a mixture of intense appreciation and overwhelming desire. Even though she had been wearing it the whole night, he was captivated by her in the alluring dress as if he had just seen it on her for the first time. "You smell like sugar cookies." It aroused him as much as it did every time she wore it.

"And you came running." Clicking the bottle closed, she placed it on the counter and turned to face her husband. "Is this the CD Greg gave you?"

"Yes, it is." He extended his hand. "Come with me, Darling."

Ever so slowly, Sara slid her fingers over Gil's while she held his eyes with hers. "Where are we going?"

Before answering, he brought her hand to his warmed lips and pressed a single kiss to it. And while his mouth was still hovering over her soft skin, he returned his gaze to her eyes. "You'll see."

A ripple of excitement rolled through her as she let him lead her out of the room and down the hall and when they reached the glass paneled back door she glimpsed the flicker of candles lining one side of the brick path in the back yard. "I saw this in a movie once." She inhaled a choppy breath as her desire for her husband doubled.

After opening the door he leaned in, whispering, "Time to see where it leads," in her ear before lingering his lips on her lobe. With her hand gripped tightly, he led the way once again.

As they wound their way past the tea lights, Sara took in the elements around her…the warmth of the summer night, the starry sky and the sound of crickets chirping as boldly as her heartbeat. When they reached their destination, a spread of blankets surrounded by candles in a secluded grove of trees, her breath caught in her throat. Overwhelmed, she simply said, "I love this."

His satisfaction with her comment illuminated his eyes. "I wanted to show my appreciation for everything you've done to make my birthday special for me. I never thought I would feel this happy about my birthday…about my life."

She knew he had enjoyed it but hearing the declaration exhilarated her.

Emotion powering his voice, Gil spoke from the heart. "This party proved to me how much I've changed for the better because of you. In the past I wasn't comfortable having people in my house and tonight I was able to welcome them with you by my side and relax. I had a wonderful time."

"I'm so happy to hear you say that," Sara affirmed as she gave his hand a squeeze. If it was the whisky encouraging this behavior in her husband she was fully prepared to meet him at the door with a tumbler in hand nightly.

Reaching out with his free hand, he ran his fingertip over her radiant smile. "As I watched you throughout the evening, my admiration for you grew. You're a shadow of the girl I first met…you've blossomed into a confident, spirited woman. You're not afraid to trust others anymore…you're forging friendships and helping those around you grow and heal…when you used to be the one that needed to do the growing and the healing. I'm in awe of you, Sara. Constantly."

Inhaling deeply she fought to hold back the tears of happiness fighting to form in her eyes. It felt like they were reaffirming the vows from their marriage of true minds.

Pressing his whole palm to her cheek, Gil soulfully relayed the words his heart demanded spoken. "You've given me so much, Sara, and the fact that you want to be the mother of my child thrills me beyond words. To hear you tell everyone how much you're looking forward to it…to see the happiness and anticipation flicker in your eyes for the world to see…I can't begin to describe how that made me feel tonight. Any man would be blessed to be married to you and for me to have the honor is a gift." Pulling her hand to his heart, he whispered, "Candles in the moonlight hardly seem enough, but I thought it would be romantic and that's one of the many feelings you've stirred in me. I love you, Sara. Eternally."

Swirling from the depth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes, Sara embraced a cliché and swooned in the moonlight. "Everything I was tonight, everything that I've become…it was only possible because of the love and support you've given me. I flourish from your love." Her mouth curved into a fantastic smile as she adored the man in front of her.

As much as he didn't want to take credit for anything he couldn't deny what her words meant to him.

In a voice as clear as the night sky above, Sara continued sharing her thoughts. "You said you were in awe of me well…tonight I was in awe of _you._ I was in awe of the man who almost had a nervous breakdown when I showed up at his door ten months ago with a beetle in a jar because I saw how far he's come. You went from being the emotionally closed off guy to the go to guy. When I saw the happiness between Greg and Tawny tonight, I knew it was only possible because of what you've done to help them. I'm sure of it. See, it's not just me flourishing around you."

Hearing the approval in his wife's voice boosted his self-worth to a new extreme.

Unable to hold back, Sara halted her speech to caress her husband's lips with hers and when her eyes fluttered open she saw her husband's were misty. "I've always said you have a beautiful mind, but I really hope you understand its brilliance isn't limited to science. Your insight into people is a gift, and now that you're using it personally to help others I can only imagine how many lives you'll touch going forward. You're reaching into the future…look no further than Sean Blake to prove what I'm saying is true. And one day, soon, you'll reach into the future in a new way…by welcoming our child into the world."

Reaching out, he tenderly placed his hand over Sara's womb, never wanting her words to be truer.

The touch of his palm to her womb sent the first tear of happiness rolling down her cheek. "I'm so proud to be your wife. And while I've been your wife in name for almost a month… tonight, I lived the role in front of everyone for the first time and it felt so good. I can't imagine how good it will feel when this baby I know is growing inside of me is apparent to everyone. Then no one will mistake how serious we are about the love between us."

And as they stood under the stars drinking in the love pooling in each other's eyes, beautiful words began accompanying the hauntingly romantic melody wafting from a nearby speaker.

Gil didn't waste a minute embracing his wife and leading her in a gentle sway to what he quickly realized was truly an inspired musical selection…Alicia Keys, Butterflyz.

Swept away in his wife's arms, Gil murmured, "Sara…" and then immediately lost himself in the moment and the powerful scent of sugar cookies again.

The strength of her husband's arms wrapped tightly around her while they danced under the stars dizzied Sara. "Kiss me," She pleaded. And when Gil laced his fingers through her hair and covered her mouth in a kiss as tantalizing as the seductive melody filling the air around her, she felt her whole body shudder.

Breathless from the intensity of the kiss, their lips remained parted as their eyes locked. Overcome with desire, Gil instinctively gathered the silky fabric of Sara's dress and in one swoop had it over her head and on the ground. The sight of her standing in the starlight wearing a delicate ivory lace bra and matching panties elicited a loud gasp from him. "Amazing," Escaped from his lips as he placed his warm hands on the curves of her hips.

His tender touch on her eager body left her elated and when he began sprinkling kisses over her chest, a series of pleasure-drenched moans tumbled from Sara's lips.

On his knees Gil glanced up, taking a moment to appreciate the woman before him…his wife…the future mother of his child.

Bending forward, Sara met her husband's mouth with a fiery kiss and quickly joined him kneeling on the blanket. Moments later, the feel of Gil's fingers freeing her from her lacy bra amplified her hunger and motivated her to pop open the buttons of his shirt. After flinging the black garment she pressed her bare chest to his, sending them crashing against the blankets.

In the candlelight, they nuzzled and rolled until Gil covered Sara's body with his. "I love you," he heatedly exclaimed in his wife's ear before embarking on a journey to burn kisses over her body, her silken skin never feeling so smooth under his lips. Was it the whisky intensifying every sensation, he wondered? Or was it the fact that he never loved her more than he did tonight? And was that exponentially greater feeling caused by his suspicion that his baby was growing inside her?

Opening her eyes, Sara gazed at the stars while her husband continued sending her closer to them. He knew her body expertly and it was grateful for every targeted touch and kiss. "Gil…"

Upon hearing his name he knew she wanted him to join their bodies, but he made her wait…indulging her while making her pleasantly suffer and want him more.

"Please," She finally begged and when she felt him returning she wriggled with anticipation. "I love…" Her words were overpowered by the rush of oxygen forced into her lungs when he merged their bodies. One under the stars, she savored everything about her husband's proximity…his heart hammering on top of hers…his unrelenting kisses to her now scorching skin…and his thorough knowledge of her body's needs.

When Gil felt Sara quiver, it expeditedhis passion. Never had she looked more beautiful than she did right now in the moonlight, which deftly illuminated her passionate expression. "Sar…" But his thoughts were consumed by his wife's bliss. Then, in a perfect show of symmetry, he let himself spiral out of control with her, losing themselves together in the music and the moment.

When their breathing finally steadied, Gil and Sara exchanged Eskimo kisses and smiles of satisfaction until Sara euphorically remarked, "I was just thinking earlier tonight that we need to venture out of our bedroom more. _Wow_…is really all I can say about this experience, mostly because my mind is still mush."

Teasing her he said, "I'm sorry…did you just say something?" Then he pecked her lips. "Wow really is a perfect fit…or spectacular…although Earth-shattering has a nice ring to it."

"I bet it was the sound of the crickets that did it for you, Bug Boy."

Together they shared a blissful chuckle.

"They were a nice touch but…" Gently he brushed her hair off her face. "…I'm pretty sure you played a larger role in the outcome than the Orthoptera."

Continuing to enjoy intermittent sparks of residual passion, Sara moaned, "Mmm…is it wrong for me to say this was hands down the best part of the party?"

Quickly he allayed her fears. "Not at all…in fact, I'd be insulted if you didn't."

"Okay then, I'll really tell you the truth." Capturing his eyes, she confessed, "It was the best part of the party by a mile…no…by a thousand miles."

Delighting in her smile he couldn't resist teasing her. "Let's not get carried away, because the cake was really good too."

"Not surprising coming from a man denied sweets for a month but forced to have fertility sex daily." Pecking his lips, she confirmed her feelings once more. "I love you, Honey."

"And I wouldn't trade your love for all the chocolate cake in the world." After another kiss he slipped beside her.

Turning on her side to face her husband, Sara pondered aloud, "I wonder if I'll feel the same way when I'm very pregnant and craving things uncontrollably."

"Speaking of pregnancy…" Again he felt compelled to move a wisp of hair from her cheek. "We have a decision to make. Are we going to do this the old fashioned way, keeping it between the two of us until we can test at home in two weeks…or are we going to run the test at the lab and know tomorrow?"

"Well…honestly, at first I was hell bent on going to the lab tonight after the party, but…" A labored sigh preceded her decision. "Now I want to wait. I want us to do this one thing like normal people. You know we kind of non-dated for years and then we quickly moved in together to make up for lost time, then we exchanged vows at home and then we ran off and got married in secret…those are odd stories. Not that I have any regrets."

He nodded in agreement but Sara kept explaining.

"When our child asks us how we felt when we found out he or she would be arriving into this world, I don't want to say we snuck a blood test on the County dime so we had to pretend we weren't excited to find out about you. I thought of another scenario too, it went something like this…well first your dad drew my blood and gave it to Greg Sanders who ran the test and put the results in an envelope which he dropped off in your dad's office on the sly because your dad would have been able to read the answer in Greg's eyes like a neon sign. Then your dad drove home with the sealed envelope and that night, when he and I were alone we opened it up and found a silly note from Greg." She rolled her eyes, "I can see it now…a funny picture of me looking like a bloated penguin with an arrow pointing to my belly with the words BABY BUG BOY or GIRL INSIDE."

"I support your decision, Honey." Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it firmly. "And I fully expect the test anticipation to be as sweet as the smile on your face when you see the results," He said with the confidence of a man who had just spent a lot of quality time with his wife's breasts and knew for a fact they were _much _different than they were a week ago.

"Yeah… " Rolling onto her back, she returned her eyes to the stars. "Now our story can be something like…I did the test and then your Dad and I paced around the bedroom for the three longest minutes of our lives until we saw the most perfect blue line and screamed! See, for once, a totally normal story." And she was certain it would be this month because every time her husband gave her breasts extra attention tonight she felt an unfamiliar twinge of delightful pain.

"Speaking of normal. I never really realized how odd our friends were until tonight." Feeling a little guilty, he clarified, "Not in a bad way. They're just so different from us…but they all seem to have found the perfect partner in spite of the fact."

Laughing, Sara admitted, "I'm sure they feel exactly the same way about us, Honey. But you know, in spite of their quirks, I'm really getting used to having them around. I finally feel like I have a little family…a dysfunctional one, but a family all the same."

"Definitely dysfunctional," Gil confirmed.

"But you know what's amazing?" Sara's eyes sparkled. "We were_ so_ far behind all our friends when it came to relationships. Now, we've jumped completely ahead. We're the happily married ones. And I have a sneaking suspicion we're at least tied for having the healthiest most open sex life. How the hell did that happen?"

"Repeated coconut sacrifices to the gods?"

Together they laughed until Sara sweetly said, "Speaking of sacrifices…thanks for agreeing to let Greg and Tawny use the townhouse. You know I have a soft spot for girls who found themselves homeless as a kid having a nice place to nest when they settle down."

"Yeah…I do and I love you for it." He snuggled closer. "Hell, I think I should let them stay there for a year rent free after the success of this CD. And on Monday I need to take back every unkind word I ever said regarding Greg's musical taste. That song…this CD…"

"Yeah…I'm not sure if I'm more grateful for him saving my life on Dales Trail or…this CD."

Gil winked at his wife. "If we had this CD last Sunday I think I may have been able to make love with you in spite of the plague-victim role play thing you had going on."

"Speaking of role play…" Her eyes lit up. "I have one I'd like to do right now."

"Uh…I hope I have a minor part because the lead role I just played has left me too wiped for a repeat performance." Considering the amount of whisky he downed earlier, he knew it was a miracle he had the tremendous success he did. Was it the music? The aphrodisiac effect of the chocolate cake? A unique planetary alignment? Whatever the cause, he was grateful for the intensity of the experience.

"Actually, this is a starring role I want you to play, but don't worry, you're up for the challenge." Patting her belly she said, "We're starving. Can you play waiter and bring us some food and drinks?" And when she saw him rise to his feet she added, "Make sure you get some _chicken_!" Reaching over she grabbed his shirt and slipped it on.

"I don't know if there's any chicken left because Greg was stuffing his face all night." Tugging on his boxers he laughed, "I don't know about Tawny, but Greg is definitely eating for two. Yeah, I bet Mr. Weak Guts, as Nick has coined him, pukes later." Suddenly he broke out laughing. "Do you think Tawny will hold his hair out of the way for him?"

"I'm sure she would do just about anything for Chuckles." Laughing, Sara continued, "Let's hope he held it in until after they dropped off Carrie." Sara shivered at the thought. "Remember, she's got that horrible gag reflex, as we learned the hard way during the dinner from hell at the Blakes that almost made me throw in the towel on motherhood?"

"I'd have to have amnesia to forget that night." He shuddered as he turned for the house.

Sara fell back against the blanket laughing and thinking, amnesia is what Greg's going to have when he wakes up tomorrow after drinking tequila all night. Then again, he does seem to recall almost everything that happened the night we got trashed after the Lady Heather nightmare.

_**Forty minutes AGO…**_

While Carrie rode in the passenger seat of Tawny's yellow Ford Escape, Greg was in the back flanked by Nick and Brass.

Annoyed by the tight fit, Nick joked, "Chuckles, is this what it feels like when you hang out with your pals in their clown cars?"

"Hey, it could be worse." Greg reminded him, "At least we don't smell because we just took a dip in the Jacuzzi together." Then again, his senses were so deadened from the tequila he really couldn't be sure...so he smelled his armpit. "Yep…clean."

"Oh hell…don't bring up the two of you bathing together," Brass moaned. "I want to pass out as soon as I walk through my front door and I'd prefer not to have the image of the two of you barely dressed and hot-tubbing dancing in my head instead of visions of sugar-plums…wait…that almost sounds like the same thing."

In a moment of rare lucidity that night, Nick asked his boss, "Do you think it looks bad for Greg and me to party together since I'm his boss now?"

Brass casually replied, "Just don't marry him and you'll be fine."

The mention of the word marriage caught Tawny's ear. "Greggy!" She called to her man in a cheery tone. "I have my Disney Mania 3 CD in the car and I'm gonna play our song."

Dropping his head against the seat back, Brass cursed himself for not walking the ten miles home. Trapped in the car, he couldn't imagine anything worse than listening _yet again_ to the recording of lovestruck Prince Greggy's saccharine song to his Booty Girl turned Damsel in Pregnancy Distress. But then, as if the gods could read his mind, they proved Jim Brass wrong…there was indeed something worse.

When the lyrics began, severely inebriated Greg started singing along…and not just singing…_emoting _the words to his significant other…with _verve_.

While Nick and Brass sat like bookends fashioned in the image of deer in headlights, the two women in the front seat squealed with delight. Greg wasn't just warbling, he was singing with the skill of…

"Clay Aiken!" Carrie shrieked, "Oh my god, he sounds just like him! Tawny you didn't tell me he could sing!"

"I didn't know he could!" Stopped at a red light, Tawny whipped around and stared in awe at her clown, turned crooner. "Greg! Your voice is awesome!" When she thought about it for a second she realized it made perfect sense since his mom was a music teacher. "I feel like we just uncovered your secret superhero power!"

Leaning forward, Brass, who couldn't deny Greg sounded fantastic, albeit pathetically sappy, commented to Nick, "Seriously, is there any way this could get more bizarre?"

"Sing the girl part of the duet, Tawny!" Greg exclaimed in a drunken lovesick plea before nailing his next line. "Don't you dare close your eyes!"

She gladly obliged. "A hundred thousand things to see!"

Taking hold of her hand, Greg sang, _"_Hold your breath it still gets better!"

And then, before Jim could ask how the moment could get even _more _sickeningly sweet…

The lovebirds harmonized.

The mercy of a car horn from behind signaled the light had turned green. "Hey, Tawny!" Nick shouted out, "Green means go. Go…please go! Fast!" Then he elbowed Greg, who was still belting out the tune solo. "Greggo, you sound very_ sensitive_ when you sing and we both know what that means…you won't get laid." Then he heard his fiancée declare…

"I'm crushin' on Chuckles the Crooning Clown!"

…which reminded Nick of Carrie's statement earlier tonight…_the only thing that gets me hotter than a Bad Boy is a guy who can sing_. With his hand firmly planted over Greg's mouth he bullied, "Stop singing or I'll make you work every _horrible smelling_ case we get next week…real _stomach turners_…maybe we'll even get a nice _rotten_ '3 months in a plastic tarp' _decomp_ case…_liquid stench_ is the BEST, you haven't had one of those yet. So what do you say, Mr. Weak Guts?" He removed his hand expecting immediate compliance.

"Uh…" Greg replaced Nick's hand with his own and moaned, "After listening to you…I have to hurl."

"What!" Nick freaked out, knowing if Carrie heard the slightest gag she'd be joining in. "NO!"

Brass shook his head. "Please tell me he didn't say what I think he just said."

"Jim?" Tawny asked, "Left on Firestone Drive?"

"Yes, Princess," Brass confirmed before making an offer he never thought he would in this lifetime. "Greggy-poo, do you want to come back to my place with me to vomit?"

"Okay," he groaned while trying to focus on something else.

Nick took the tough love approach again, which should have seemed like a bad idea since it was the same approach that got him in the situation in the first place. "You puke anywhere near my fiancée she's gonna lose it and that means the righteous buzz she has going will be wasted. You hold it together, Sanders, or you're a dead man. You wait until you are out of her sight and sound range, got it?"

Having only an hour earlier heard Nick explain he knew how to kill someone and make it look like an accident, Greg fought hard to keep his stomach contents in check.

Now it was Brass's turn to sing with delight. "My apartment is right up there, Tawny!" And with Greg as green as grass it was perfect timing. "It was a slice, kids!" Brass quipped as he opened the car door before the brakes were fully engaged. "Let's go, Prince Charmless." Grabbing Greg's arm he dragged him out of the car toward his front door.

Now that they were rid of the potentially buzz-killing vomit guy, Nick breathed a sigh of relief. "Carrie, why don't you come back here with me so Greg can sit up front when he gets back?"

In an instant she was out of the car and diving into the backseat. "Snuggle time."

"There you go." Nick pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. "Greg won't be long, he's an expert at this."

Concerned, Tawny turned around and asked, "Does he get sick at work a lot?"

"Not a lot but, he doesn't have a natural iron-gut and hasn't acquired his sea legs yet, so we give him crap about it…just your standard hazing." He smiled, "I'm sure you had a similar protocol for the new girls at clubs." Actually, he knew for a fact because he_ talked_ to a lot of strippers in his day. Those chicks could be vicious.

"Oh yeah. Gotta scare the crap out of the FNGs…that's _f'ing new girls_ for you, Carrie. You know, stuff like…use this cream it will make your nipples stay hard all night, but instead it stains them mustard yellow." Tawny smiled at the memory of her night spent with mustard-yellow nipples as she turned back around. When she did, she noticed Brass and Greg were no longer in sight.

Once inside the front door, Brass instructed, "Okay, UpChuck…straight back to the bedroom, john's on the left. And don't steal any of my fine hair care products while you're in there!" As Greg hustled down the hall, Jim tossed his keys on the coffee table and headed for the fridge to grab Greg a Sprite. But when he reached the kitchen counter, he saw something highly disturbing…a purse. "Oh shit!"

"WHAT THE?" Greg shrieked as he was unexpectedly shoved against the wall of Jim's dark bedroom seconds before having a hot tongue rammed into his mouth.

"WHO…OH!" Heather screamed as she realized not only did she have the wrong guy but that he was now puking on her best pair of leather boots.

Upon reaching the bedroom, Jim flicked on the lights. "At least I have wooden floors," He deadpanned thinking it was the only stroke of luck he had tonight. "Yeah…this is going to take some explaining."

Staring at Lady Heather, who was fully outfitted in dominatrix garb, Greg begged, "Please tell me you're not going to make me lick your boots." Clutching his throbbing head, he whimpered, "Did I accidentally swallow the tequila worm earlier, because this is a really screwed up hallucination."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jim grilled Heather while Greg rushed to the bathroom for a second round. "You said the Auto Dealer Convention was going to keep you busy all weekend."

Her feet now centered in a puddle of what she was certain was tequila-induced spew, Heather couldn't believe Jim was asking mundane questions when bigger ones were at hand. "Did you pick him up at a bar or are you paying him? How many drinks did you ply him with in order to get him to go home with you? And why didn't you tell me about your penchant for boys?"

"Why, is it a deal breaker?" He inquired, curious to see how she'd respond. "Wait…I can't joke about Greg this way or I'll end up tossin' chunks too. That was Greg Sanders from work spillin' his cookies…you met him during the Dunce case, remember? He was chasing your skirt tail like a puppy and you were anxious to _serve him tea_. Greg felt sick in the car on the way home from the party so he came in to use my bathroom. His girlfriend is…

"Greg!" Tawny called out from the hall.

Brass cringed. "His girlfriend is HERE apparently. He's in here, Tawny."

"Tawny?" Heather remarked.

As Greg emerged from the bathroom with a wet hand towel pressed to his forehead, Tawny entered the bedroom. "OH!" She jumped back. "Lady Heather, what are you doing here?"

Greg groaned, "Do you two know each other?"

Heather smiled warmly. "Yes, we take the same Cardio Strip aerobics class and she was almost my employee. About six months ago, I tried to recruit her to be a submissive. She had a regular customer at Club Paradise who was also a frequent visitor to the dominion. He was desperate to tie her up and pour honey all over her while buzzing like a bee and stinging her with a..."

"I'll be right back," Greg announced before dashing into the bathroom once more.

"I told her no thanks, Greg!" Tawny shouted before glaring at Lady Heather. "Uh…hello…couldn't you tell from the pool of his vomit you're standing in that he's a bit squeamish?"

Heather glared at Jim. "Why are you still standing there? Get something and clean this up! These are brand new boots."

Tawny saw Brass in a whole new light. "Frankly, I'm shocked."

"You don't know the half of it, Honey," He grumbled as he retreated towards the laundry room to grab cleaning supplies. Then he turned on a dime. "Hey, Tawny, is Stokes coming in here too?" While he knew Greg had an open mind about kink, Nick didn't. Not to mention, Nick wasn't easily controllable like Greg and would never keep this from Sara.

"Not a chance," Tawny assured him. "I'm sure he's slobbering all over Carrie in the back seat as we speak."

As the windows of the parked car started to steam, Nick growled in Carrie's ear, "Damn, I wish she left the car running. It's getting hot in here."

Making out in a backseat for the first time in her 30-year life, Carrie approached the opportunity with zeal…zeal easy to summon since she was still flying high from the excess of wine she consumed throughout the night. A big fan of movies, Carrie suddenly had an idea. "Pretend we're teenagers and try to get me to go all the way, Nicky," She blurted before breaking into a giggle.

He tried not to show his amusement at what he thought was her rather adorable attempt at innocent role play. Instead he pressed on, fulfilling her request. "I'm so in love with you, Baby." Mercilessly he kissed her in between his silly lines…which actually were all true. "Yeah…I've never been in love before and it feels so good." Once he had her cornered he let his hands work their magic. "You're the only girl for me. You're so beautiful. I can't wait to marry you one day. And since we'll be getting married, we can do anything we want tonight."

His verbal and physical full-court press left her reeling and she understood for the first time how a tipsy girl might succumb in the heat of the moment. "I can't," She announced, playing her part. "Not until we're married."

While he turned up the heat he uttered, "But I'm shipping out in the morning with the Navy and I may not come back from…"

"How can you ship out with _Navy_ when we're in the middle of the _desert_?" Shaking with laughter she chided him, "That makes NO sense!"

Laughing hard he pointed out, "Well neither does the fact that we're engaged and in our 30's while playing teenagers and pretending you're a virgin, but you seemed to get past that just fine! In my mind this car was parked in San Diego and after you gave in…which we both know was gonna happen…I was planning on taking you for a nice stroll on the beach."

"Okay, let's try it again, Sailor."

As they clung to each other laughing, there was a knock on the window.

"Who's that?" Carrie asked in a panic.

"Just a courtesy knock from Tawny, I'm sure." He laughed. "She's already seen me at attention once tonight. It's okay, open the door." When the door opened, Nick saw a uniformed police officer. "Oh…hey, everything's fine in here," He assured the young man. "He'll need to hear it from you too, Carrie."

"I'm fine too."

"I'll need you both to step out of the vehicle." Clicking on his flashlight, Officer O'Hara shined it on the man and woman. "Solicitation is against the law in Clark County."

The statement sent Nick into a fit of laughter. "He thinks you're a hooker, Honey."

"What!" Carrie leapt out of the car.

"Ma'am, I need you to stay against the vehicle and not approach me," The cop curtly informed her.

"I'm not a hooker! I'm with the DA's office! I'm an Attorney!" Incensed by the accusations, she postured with her hands on her hips while waiting for Nick to back her up…which he didn't because he was too busy trying to breathe while rolling with laughter in the back seat.

Another cop crossed the street carrying two coffees. "Whatcha got, Billy?" Officer Borrega asked the rookie.

"Found her steaming up the windows. I thought she was with a Johnny in the back seat but she denies it."

"Not a chance," The tenured officer remarked through a smile. "She's wearing pants."

Upon hearing the pants line, Nick finally understood the phrase, _died laughing. _

Carrie whipped around shouting, "Stokes! You get your ass out here now!"

"Stokes?" Borrega smiled as he peeked inside the vehicle. "Is that you, Slick Nick?"

"Hey, Carlos, haven't seen you since I switched to Days," Nick greeted as he crawled out of the backseat holding his gut which was sore from laughing so hard. "Sorry for the confusion. We're just waitin' on friends while they're taking care of some business inside this building."

Inside Brass's apartment, Greg sat quietly on the living room couch sipping from a Sprite can.

Jim, authoritatively looming over his guest inquired, "You feelin' better? I bet you're at least a little more sober than when you walked in here, huh?"

"A bit." Greg brought a hand to his clammy face. "Finding out about this after being out with you and Sara and hearing what you said about Lady Heather…I'm a little confused."

"It's complicated. We're seeing each other on the sly." Jim glanced over his shoulder to make sure Tawny and Heather were still out of the room. "But you gotta do me a favor, Greg. You can't mention my association with Heather to anyone. Can you do that for me? _Especially not Sara_." From behind he heard Heather's voice.

"Yes, we wouldn't want to upset Mrs. Grissom." Grinning, she strolled over, cinching her red silk robe. Her irritation over Jim's refusal to share his secret with Sara and his decision to attend the party with Roxie as his faux-date was rising yet again. It wasn't that she expected to attend the party with him considering its locale, she just didn't like the implication…he was ashamed to let his friends know of her existence. He should have told the truth and attended alone or made it clear that Roxie was just a friend subbing for his date of choice. "We all know how moody Sara gets at the mention of my name."

Greg's mouth opened and before he could stop the words, they jumped out. "Well maybe if you hadn't been such a _colossal bitch_ flaunting the fact you once did the wild thing with Grissom, and feeding on Sara's insecurities making her think he was away at a convention cheating on her, she wouldn't have snapped." Then realizing he was talking to the Assistant Director of the Crime Lab's _lady,_ Greg added, "No offense."

Heather's feathers ruffled sharply. There it was again. A man defending Sara and flaunting it in her face. Everyone has a trigger…something that irrationally sets them off. Protecting Sara was hers and its roots were simple to trace. Sara now regularly got from Gil what he denied Heather after she let him into her heart…the benefit of the doubt, respect and a chance to explain her innocence.

Tawny stood gaping at her guy. "_Gil_ is a customer at the dominion?" The man was obviously a better poker player than she thought because she never got the bondage vibe from him.

Heather quickly corrected. "No, not a customer. An acquaintance from my past. And my dear girl, just so we're clear, sex for money never takes place in my establishment."

"Yeah…right." Tawny rolled her eyes. "And guys stuffed twenties in my g-string because they liked my smile."

"Anyway!" Brass redirected the focus while trying to push the idea from his mind that he was seeing a woman whose business operated on the border of gray and grayer. "Greg…Gil knows. And this week, I plan on telling Sara about my relationship with Heather. But I want to do it right. The timing has been wrong, that's why I haven't done it yet."

"Relationship?" Heather smirked. "Never heard you utter that word before, Jim." Although she wouldn't admit it in front of the guests, she liked the implication.

"So Grissom knows about the two of you?" Greg asked, feeling a little squicked by the idea of Grissom and Brass sharing the same dominatrix. "But Sara asked him who your mystery lady was and he didn't say…whoa…how many people know and are lying to Sara's face?"

"Just Gil and I, and it's not lying…"

"OH yeah it is," Tawny corrected the misperception. "Only a MAN would think that's not lying." And she couldn't have been more pleased that Greg, being a sensitive mama's boy, had the ability to think like a woman.

"You tell him," Heather sighed, "because I've said the same thing and he didn't listen to me. Not to mention how much time he's let pass while skirting the issue."

"How much time?" Tawny inquired.

"About a month."

Tawny cringed. "You're looking at some serious rage with that kind of hang time. Women hate feeling blindsided, humiliated and betrayed."

Heather grumped, "Tell me about it."

"Don't worry, I'll handle it," Brass replied confidently while still not sure exactly how he was going to do that.

Suddenly feeling a tad defensive from the Sara Defender's judgmental stare, Heather snapped at Greg, "Stop looking at me like you can't stomach the thought of me and what I do for a living. As I recall, you didn't have a problem with me the night you were working your case at my dominion. As a matter of fact, you were very eager to _have tea_ _with me_ and if your boss hadn't forbidden it, I would have had you whimpering on a leash in minutes."

"Is that true, Greg?" Tawny asked in surprise. "You like that sort of thing?" She knew he enjoyed her little game with the necktie and the Magic 8 Ball, but it was playful not dark. _Dark _she couldn't stomach because it was too close to abuse and she knew that feeling all too well. "When were you going to mention this, huh? Because if you think I'm going to let you pour honey on me and sting me, you can forget it! I'm not that desperate! And our child isn't going to grow up around that kind of twisted…."

"Hold up!" Greg held his spinning head and very calmly said, "There you go not letting me explain myself again. You're reflexively jumping to conclusions and getting all worked up without ever letting me say anything, right? So _please…_keep your shoes on and give me a chance. And whatever you do, don't run because I'm too weak to chase you."

"Ugh." Lowering her head Tawny sighed, "You're right…sorry."

Heather rested her hand on Jim's shoulder. "See what a great submissive she would have made? Such a pity she doesn't have the guts to try it, she'd rake in a bundle for herself. Tawny, wake up, Honey! You're playing the part for free. Tell me, how did you get that bruise around your wrist? Didn't do what he asked the first time? I'll never understand it. Why are girls like you SO willing to be dominated for free, but act insulted when I offer to _pay you_ a handsome salary and benefits for the same treatment? The day my ex laid a hand on me was the day I was out the door. Look at me now, I'm wealthy and making my money off jerks like my ex. Cut this deadbeat loose and come work for me."

"What! No! You've got it all wrong." Greg barked, "I'm not dominating her! It's called respectful communication…she's not used to a guy treating her straight up, and I'm just reminding her we agreed to listen to each other before going postal."

Grinning wider, Heather retorted, "We call that correction in the biz. Maybe if you tried a different approach other than manhandling her you might see an improvement in her memory."

Infuriated, Greg forgot everything he had recently learned in Anger Management class. "Damn it! I can totally see why Sara loses it around you! You don't know anything about me or my relationship with Tawny yet you're standing there making me out to be some kind of monster. Well, here's a news flash…Sara's an extremely decent person and so am I! I've never laid a hand on a woman out of anger in my entire life. I love Tawny and we have an _equal_ partnership. Not that it really matters what you think anyway. So would you back off already!" When he was done screaming he realized he sounded exactly like Sara did that night…defensive, and he cursed himself for playing into her hands.

Heather immediately retorted, "Defensiveness usually indicates a nerve's been hit. What are you really covering?"

Jim stood up and gently took Heather's hand. "Could I uh…speak to you for a moment, _Darling_?" When they were in the kitchen he barked in a whisper, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you inciting him when I need him to cooperate? And for your information, he's not lying. He really is a decent kid. Hell, he's ready to step in and be the father of Tawny's baby even if it's not his. It takes a stand up guy to do that, let me assure you."

"And the bruise?" She prodded in an impatient tone.

"Look, I appreciate you standing up for Tawny and what you said about her taking crap for free was probably dead on **_prior_** to Greg. The bruise on her wrist was from him grabbing tonight, but to save her from falling on her ass. Satisfied? Now can you do me a favor, _please?_ Drop the act, because we both know it's an act. And we both know why you morphed into this cartoon character and put on a show."

Not ready to back down she huffed, "Well maybe I wouldn't be in such a mood if you weren't so ashamed of me."

"It's not about shame."

Angered, she pushed, "Then what is it about? Putting Sara's needs over mine? Once again I'll ask the question…what is so special about her that makes men go to such extremes to protect her? Why is it so important that she never feel the pain of betrayal? And moreover…why don't I_ ever _get afforded the same courtesy? Every day you protect _her,_ you're betraying _me._ Maybe you and Gil are more alike than I thought. You didn't even utter a word when Greg was screaming at me."

"Honey, that has nothing to do with my feelings for you. I didn't defend you because you really were being a colossal bitch to Sara that night and tonight too. How the hell can I defend you when you're guilty as charged!" Frustrated, he exhaled sharply. "If he had screamed at you like without provocation his ass would have hit the floor and he'd be waking up ten hours later. But you make it a point of telling me what a tough broad you are all the time, so damned if I'm going to get in the middle of a fight you started because of some warped grudge you have that causes you to lash out at anyone who defends Sara."

"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest. "If you can't understand why this keeps happening around your friends and co-workers then…"

"And if you can't understand why it's important to me preserve my relationship with Sara then you really don't get me at all."

"Maybe not."

"Okay, you know what…I submit." He held up his hands. "This is just too complicated. Let's both say thanks for the good times and walk our separate ways."

"You know you don't want that," She asserted.

"Are you sure I don't?" And then one of their infamous stare downs commenced.

In the living room, Tawny took a seat next to Greg. "Okay, I'm listening."

As embarrassing as it was he told the truth. "I won't lie to you. A month ago…yes, I was curious and given the chance with her when I walked in there that night…I would have taken the opportunity just to sample the experience." Upon taking her hand, he softened his voice. "But a month ago I would have done a lot of things I wouldn't now. Same for you, right?" Squeezing her hand, he assured her, "And that night, after I saw _**her** _lash out at Sara it cured me of all curiosity, trust me. Walking out of that place, everything had a different feel to me than when I had walked in…especially **_her_**." Smiling, he reminded his significant other, "You saw my list of future fantasies, Tawny. Romps at The Dominion didn't make the cut."

Running her fingers through Greg's damp hair, she sighed, "How lucky am I? You're honest_ and_ you can sing."

"What makes you think I can sing?" He asked while staring at her. Having made it a point not to sing in the shower since she moved in, he couldn't imagine how she would know his secret talent…a talent that caused him much harassment in middle school when some jocks found out he was in an invitation-only boys choir.

"Right before you came up here to hurl you were singing to me in the car." Staring at his puzzled expression she realized he couldn't recall the moment because he had been at the height of his intoxication…minutes before the climax and purge. "Apparently you were so wasted you don't remember."

"I sang in front of Brass and Nick?" He placed the wet towel he was holding over his face and crashed against the sofa knowing he would be hearing shit about it until he was six feet under and even then he had a feeling they'd haunt him about it in the afterlife. It would be middle school all over again. "Did I do anything else crazy?"

Feeling mischievous she teased, "You asked me to marry you."

"I did!" Ripping the towel from his face he looked at her in horror. It was exactly what he didn't want to happen and he felt awful. "Oh, Tawny…"

Having let him suffer enough, Tawny wistfully said, "Unfortunately for you, I said no, so I guess you'll have to woo me a little more and try again in the future."

"You were shittin' me?" He beamed with delight, relieved he hadn't blown it.

Just then they heard the door from the kitchen open and when they craned their necks they saw Lady Heather breezing out into the living room with her red robe billowing.

With sweet sincerity Heather declared, "Mr. Sanders, I'm afraid I owe you an apology. I was wrong to make assumptions and accusations. Going forward I promise it won't happen again. Congratulations on the baby to both you and Tawny. I wish you all the best."

"Uh…" Still dazed from the tequila and the vomiting, Greg was eager to call it a night. "Yeah….okay, apology accepted." He eyed Brass who was standing a little taller. "And Jim…you have my word."

"Thanks, Greg."

Jumping up from the couch, Tawny announced, "Speaking of babies. We need to go before Nick and Carrie have time to make a few in the backseat of my car." Grabbing Greg's wrist she yanked him to his feet. "Night!'

Together they bolted for the door glad to be leaving The Twilight Zone.

Once outside, Greg had an idea. "Hey, after we drop off Nick and Carrie, let's hit one of the casino all-night buffets, because now that my stomach is empty, I'm hungry." He took her hand, and started swinging it. "Yeah…I want an omelet with lots of stuff in it. Plus some toast and juice. And pancakes!"

"Hash browns?"

"Hell no!" He grinned wildly. "Country potatoes!"

As she slipped behind the wheel of her car, Tawny was thrilled to know he remembered that part of the night.

"What the hell took you so long, Songbird?" Nick huffed.

Carrie couldn't wait to tell her story. "You won't believe what just happened!"

After buckling his seat belt, Greg replied, "Oh, I don't know…I think I'll believe anything that happens tonight. I think there's some strange planetary alignment thing going on or something."

Nick winked at his frisky fiancée, "And the night's not over yet."

* * *


	7. Close Encounters Part 2

******NOTE: this chapter has been edited to comply with this website's rules. If you would prefer to read the original version please go to the author page and click on my homepage link. It is Chapter 69: Close Encounters - Part 2.**

* * *

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

**Close Encounters – Part 2**

**August 21, 2005 (Day 121)  
****The Grissoms'  
****2:09 a.m.**

When Gil returned with an assortment of leftover party food and drinks he found Sara wearing his shirt and her panties, lying on her back staring at the stars. "I certainly hope you're not checking out Orion's Belt, because I'm the jealous type."

Sitting up she assured him, "The Big Dipper actually…because it reminds me of you." Accepting a plate of food from his hand, she grinned. "Question for you…"

"Go ahead." Taking a seat on the blanket with her, he grabbed a strawberry from his plate and once again found himself captivated by her beauty in the moonlight.

Licking the chocolate frosting she just swirled onto her fingertip from the cake on her plate she taunted, "When exactly did you speed read those sex books Catherine and Warrick gave you tonight? Because, the more I think about our love making just now, I know there was something new going on."

After choking momentarily on his strawberry he answered, "I was multi-tasking when I was out here lighting the candles, but I only finished chapter two of the first book so…stay tuned."

"I'll be sure to take my vitamins." Eyeing a cheese wedge, she nabbed it and a second later it was gone.

"You are taking them, right?" He asked with a hint of concern in his voice. "Your pre-natal vitamins?"

"Religiously for two months now." Out of the corner of her eye she watched him. "Why? Are you concerned it could be more critical for me to take them all of a sudden?"

Resisting the smirk that begged to make an appearance on his face he casually replied, "The time prior to fertilization is just as important as after."

She didn't acknowledge his lack of the right answer. "You know what I want to do after this?"

"Play Boggle?" He broke into an easy laugh. "Warrick told me playing Boggle with you is no fun. He said he'll stick to playing Lindsay because at least he wins half the time."

"Next time I play someone I think I'll give them a one minute lead." Then she saw her husband's knowing stare. "Okay one and a half minutes."

"So what were you really going to say you wanted to do after this?"

"Go for a swim." Wriggling her eyebrows she added, "Sans swimsuits." Then a shiver ran through her. "Wait…you don't think anyone used our pool for their own pleasure tonight, do you?"

"Nick and Greg were the only two out there for any length of time but, if it will make you feel better, I'll do a quick protein hunt around the perimeter."

"Let's not have you do that, because if you do find something…"

"Good point." He laughed. "Carrie probably wouldn't handle the news well."

"Are you still smarting from losing to her at poker?" Grabbing her fork, she drove it into the thick slice of cake her husband had cut for her.

"It was the luck of the draw on that last hand, you can't compete with a royal flush, but I was sloppy, I shouldn't have gone all-in. I read her wrong. I thought the euphoria she was exuding related to romping with Nick in the pool house, not her cards."

"It was great seeing her have such a good time tonight…I mean at the party in general,_ not_ in the pool house." After another bite of cake she confessed, "The problem is, I promised her I'd do something crazy with her if she beat you and now of course I'm regretting it. I never thought you'd really lose."

"What did you agree to do?" His curious mind ran through some possibilities. "I'm guessing it has to do with shoes."

"Shoes do factor in. I'll tell you, but have to _promise_ not to tell Nick because she's doing this to surprise him on their honeymoon." Pointing her fork at him she reiterated, "Promise."

"Of course I promise."

Rolling her eyes Sara groaned, "I agreed to go with her to this Cardio Striptease aerobics class tomorrow evening. You keep your clothes on of course…well most of them, she said you're supposed to wear a nice sports bra, short-shorts and bring stilettos for when you work on an actual routine. Anyway, she's doing it because Tawny swears that's how she acquired and maintains her killer abs and thighs. Carrie wants to look great in a bathing suit since she and Nick have decided to go to Kauai on their honeymoon. Tawny apparently demonstrated for Carrie how the class makes you extremely _limber_." She chuckled, "Which I hear is also good when you're on your honeymoon in Kauai."

"Cardio Striptease?" He tried not to laugh. "_You_ are going to bare some of your body _in public_ while bumping and grinding? Don't get me wrong…I know first hand you have the right moves, Boom Boom, and your six-pack is state of the art…your friends will be shocked when they see what lies beneath your shirt for the first time. I remember that delightful shock very well. I'm just having a hard time visualizing you taking Boom Boom's moves public."

With a wink she replied, "I'm thinking of it as a nice way to debut my bigger boobs." Then she sighed. "And a promise is a promise so I can't back out. Besides, I'm happy Carrie is getting more comfortable with her sexuality."

"Probably not as happy as Nick."

And as her husband laughed Sara thought, I wonder if Carrie stuck to her guns, strapped on her spurs, and demanded time in the saddle tonight?

**Nick and Carrie's Apartment  
****2:17 a.m. **

When Carrie emerged from the bathroom wearing a dusky-pink sheer-silk chemise with fitted bodice and delicate ruffles at the straps and hem, Nick's eyes fired up. "And here I was certain you'd come out of there wearing pants," He teased from his position lounging on their bed watching Sportscenter. Clad only in a fresh pair of hunter-green boxers, he patted the mattress and then switched the TV to their favorite nighttime music channel. "Damn you look gorgeous." He carelessly tossed the remote. "And I'm half-sober now so you know I'm not seeing things through beer-goggles."

As customary, she flicked off the lights so that only the four strategically-placed fragrant candles she had lit before entering the bathroom illuminated the room. "I thought you'd like it, Slick Nick."

"Thanks for reminding me I have to kill Carlos for using that name in front of you." Rolling on his back he stared at the ceiling. "As if you didn't have enough ammunition against me."

"I'll use it the next time we play Bad Boy, Good Girl." Seeing him lying on his back she recognized her golden opportunity. In a flash she was sliding over Nick's body and when her face met up with his, she surprised him with a slow, drugging kiss. Much to her relief, she instantly felt his body react, so she was certain the excess tequila he consumed was not going to hinder her efforts. Upon breaking the kiss she whispered, "I had a great time tonight, Nicky."

"Me too." Running his fingers through her wavy chestnut hair he studied her dark brown eyes. "And I know you probably won't believe me, but my favorite part of the night wasn't our time in the pool house."

"Really?" She remarked in surprise. "What was your favorite part?"

"Watching you kick Grissom's ass at poker." With that he flipped her onto her back and captured her lips in a vigorous kiss.

"Hey!" She exclaimed in a giggle. "How did I end up on my back so fast?" Thirty seconds in the saddle was hardly enough time.

"It's a Slick Nick trade secret," He joked while nibbling on her ear lobe. "By the way, I was kidding about your poker win being the best part…although it's definitely top five along with the pool house. My hands down favorite part of the night was hearing Carlos tell the rookie that you couldn't be a hooker because you were wearing pants. Oh man…your reaction…I swear I've never laughed that hard in my life. And in that moment when you were out there twisting in the wind with that dumbfounded expression on your face I loved you more than I ever thought possible. You were grade-A adorable."

"I guess I'll have to make an effort to humiliate myself more in order to keep our love alive and growing."

Pressing her hands against his chest she pushed him off her and sat up.

Surprised by her physicality he asked in a concerned tone, "Sorry, are you mad about what I said?"

"Not at all." She pounced once more, covering his body with hers and seizing his lips.

Twenty seconds later Carrie was staring at the ceiling. "Nicky..."

"Mmm?" He replied while canvassing her cleavage with velvety kisses.

"Can you turn up the volume on the music a little?"

Reluctantly he lifted his lips off Carrie's chest and rolled on his back. Propped up on his elbows he scanned the area for the remote. "Now where did I toss that…" His words were interrupted by his fiancée's demanding kiss and he figured she must have changed her mind about the music volume. Oh well, it was a woman's prerogative he mused while slipping his hands over the sensual silk of her nightie.

Ten seconds later, when her back hit the mattress, Carrie unwittingly heaved a labored sigh.

"Somethin' wrong?" Nick inquired after releasing her earlobe from his teeth.

In a sweet yet frustrated tone she admitted, "I keep losing the wrestling match, Honey."

"Huh?" He wasn't tracking.

"I uh…" Pressing her open palm on his chest she softly said, "Could you um…I'd like to talk, so would you lie next to me instead of…"

"Sure." He immediately did as asked and with concern mounting in his voice prodded, "Tell me what's going on, because clearly something's on your mind."

"Remember when we were having our little disagreement earlier in the week and you told me what you really want to do is say what's on my mind when it comes to our relationship…or more specifically our um…sex life?"

"Yeah." Was it about the pool house, he wondered? Now that she was back in her comfort zone was she reflecting and thinking it was too much?

Rolling onto her back, Carried chewed on her bottom lip while trying to think of the right phrasing. "There's something's on my mind and it's kind of difficult…I have a feeling you will…"

"Baby, just say it." Gently, he ran his palm over the rosy silk covering her torso. "Whatever your concern is, don't worry, we can work through it. Just fling it out there." Suddenly he wondered if she was upset because he was watching Sportscenter when she returned to the bedroom. He thought, maybe I should have been doing something more to set the mood while she was getting ready?

"Okay…" She took a deep breath. "Just fling, huh?" She realized he was fully expecting her to confess some sort of repressive discomfort and it only made it more difficult for her to broach _his_ issue, which she really didn't realize was an issue until just now.

"Please, Carrie, you're killin' me with the suspense." Desperate, he attempted to figure out what he could have possibly done since she joined him in bed to cause the tension on her face and the concern in her voice. Maybe I was teasing and being playful when she was hoping for some big time romance? Yeah, because that nightie is romantic-looking and it's new. Shit…I should have figured that out right away. If she wanted to be playful she would have come out here in one of her cute pairs of boy shorts and a tank top. Nice going, Stokes.

"Here goes…um…I've noticed that you're always on top…every time." For a moment she winced from the sound of the brutal honesty coming from her mouth in regards to his sexual performance, but then she recovered. "Thirty seconds max is all I ever get, Nicky."

"I'm always on…" Staring at her he realized her concern wasn't about herself, Sportscenter or missing a mood cue, it was about his…_technique._ Sportscenter would have been a hell of a lot easier to stomach.

Now that it was out there in the open, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Finally able to look at him, she caught his eyes. "I just think it's something I might enjoy but, how will I ever find out if every time I start out there you tackle me and take over?"

"I do what?" Cocking his head he gaped at her and her accusation.

"Honey, you just did it right now, three times in a row." Trying to soften her voice she said, "Remember…I even asked you how I got on my back so fast?"

"Yeah…" Stunned, he rolled onto his back. "Uh…sorry but, this is so out of left field because I just asked you Wednesday night if there was something I wasn't giving you. You didn't say this was a problem. You said there were no problems."

"It hasn't been!" She assured him, instantly cognizant he was taking the news hard. "It's something I just started thinking about tonight, because I feel so comfortable with you. That's what the pool house was about tonight, right? I never would have thought I could be that free if you asked me a month ago. It's like a switch was flipped and now I'm ready to branch out a little more. I swear I'm not going back on what I said in the hotel about being happy with our…"

"Damn, I'm…yeah, okay…here's some of that vulnerability you said I need to show more often." While rushing his hand through his hair, he cleared his throat. "How can you say you're not going back on what we talked about at the hotel, when you're asking me for one of the two things I said I can't handle? I only gave you two things, Carrie. Come on."

"What? No." Propping up on her elbow she tried to see his eyes, but he had them fixed on the wall. "It's not about aggression. Look at what I'm wearing. I didn't come out here in leather, Nick. I don't want to be on top so I can dominate you or make you feel uncomfortable." Now she realized the issue was much bigger than she initially believed. Getting no response she said, "Nicky…when you thought I was going to confess something about myself, you told me not to worry because we could work through it. So don't shut me out here. Let's do what you suggested, work through it. We're getting married, we need to be able to deal with anything thrown our way." Cuddling up next to him, she gently laid her arm across his chest, deciding to give him a few minutes to think.

"I wasn't doing it on purpose," He finally commented in a distant tone. "I didn't even know I was doing it until you pointed it out. I mean, I knew I was always on top but I didn't really think about why or that I was disappointing anyone." Anxiety spurting through him he wanted to bolt from the room, but he forced himself to stay and keep talking because if the roles were reversed he would feel awful if she rushed out instead of trusting him. "Thinking about it…damn, this is hard…with other women I did things I don't do with you, but this one thing in particular, I've never let happen with anyone. So I'm not trying to control you specifically if that's what you think."

"That's not what I think at all, Nicky." Thrilled to have him talking again she snuggled closer. "I know that's not the reason."

"Hell…I guess I never let anyone else stick around long enough to get frustrated enough to point this out to me." Which made him wonder how many others thought it but didn't verbalize it. "Maybe I didn't want them to stick around because…because they would tell me what I didn't want to hear." Covering his face with his hands he released a deep breath into them and when he moved them, he groaned. "There's something to it I suppose. I gotta tell you though, I really hate this suppressed emotional baggage crap. I'd much rather just move on."

"I know you would, Honey."

His voice turned chilly. "But I can't move on this time because, if I do, that means I have to deny you something and...damn it…I really hate this feeling, Carrie. This is why I never liked…" He cut himself off from saying the rest of his thought…_never liked being in a real relationship. "_Every god damn time this comes up it makes me feel ridiculous, because come on, how many years ago are we talkin' here? I just turned thirty-five for Christ's sake. I can't believe something so long ago is showin' up here tonight. Seriously, why can't I just move on already? And now to wonder how many women were thinking I was dysfunctional because I controlled everything?"

"Not dealing with this is exactly why you still have a problem, Nicky. You didn't even say it out loud until a few years ago, that should tell you something." Lifting her head, she was finally able to catch his eye. "Moving on without dealing is what you've been doing your whole life, isn't it? Isn't there perhaps a little more to your old love 'em and leave 'em reputation than meets the eye? There has to be, because it doesn't jive with the rest of your upstanding personality. It's out of character."

Much to his surprise, he managed a tremulous smile. "My mother used to say the same thing to me all the time. She even brought it up when I was telling her I was going to propose to you that night in Dallas. Yeah…" He said her words in her disappointed tone. "_You're so responsible in every way, Nick, that's why I've never understood your dealings with women._ She said it a lot of ways over the years and some weren't very ladylike if you catch my drift."

"Your mom and I have something in common…we both love you and know what makes you tick." Tenderly she kissed his cheek, "But she doesn't have the last piece of the puzzle like I do."

After a choppy breath he confessed, "I meant what I said at the hotel. I can't feel powerless in bed, it doesn't work for me…and I really mean _it _doesn't work."

"You know I understand exactly how it feels to be powerless and it's the last thing I want for you…that's why I'm trying so hard to help you out here, now that I really understand what's going on." A supportive smile rose on her lips. "Considering the vast number of sexual encounters you have under your belt compared to me, I know this sounds crazy but…when it comes to feeling powerful in bed, you have to believe me when I say…I know the answer and you don't." Reaching out, she stroked his cheek and used a play on the words she uttered earlier in the pool house. "Do you want me to bestow a little knowledge on you, Stokes?"

"Yes." His eyes remained glued to her steady gaze.

"Feeling powerful isn't about controlling the situation, because when you're controlling something you always have to be concerned you'll lose control and consequently lose your power. I know because I do it every day in almost every aspect of my life. Don't you feel that way when you're working overtime trying to control the world around you?"

"Yeah, but I'm always doing that, so I don't find it abnormal. What feels abnormal is _not _being in control. Hell, Greg was just bustin' my chops about me being such a control freak. It's no secret." Reaching out, he took her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm still not seeing a solution here."

Every word blanketed with tenderness she whispered, "The only way to feel _truly _powerful in bed, is to know with absolutely certainty you'll never find yourself powerless. Nicky, you get your power from trusting the person you're with and knowing they'd never, ever do anything to hurt you. It comes from knowing you can say _stop_ at any time and the other person will always listen. That's why I never feel powerless with you. This knowledge I'm bestowing on you…I learned it from being with _you._ I've only had it a few short months and tonight it finally clicked in gear with my body. But you're not letting yourself feel the same way and I guarantee you, you're missing out."

In the security of his fiancée's arms, he oozed some of that vulnerability she loved so much. "Tell me how."

Carrie gently brushed her lips over his. "All you have to do is what I did that first time we were together, Nick. Test your power." After slowly sliding on top of him, she intensified her kiss.

Closing his eyes he wanted to believe her, but all he felt at the moment was desperately out of place and out of control. Kisses and touches that would normally rouse him were ineffective and although it seemed implausible that one position could be responsible for so much havoc, it was.

Underneath her she could feel the tension in his body rising. "Come on, Nick…test it," She murmured as she skimmed her hands over the sides of his body to reach down and grab his wrists. When she had his hands, she pressed them deep into the pillows while lingering kisses on his neck. As the minutes passed she could feel his discomfort growing which was exactly what she was hoping would happen and to force the issue she tightened her grip and deepened her kiss.

"Stop," He finally requested on a jagged exhale and then inhaling sharply he waited to see if she would retreat. He hated everything he was feeling and desperately craved a return to the norm.

His command was music to her ears and upon hearing it, she slipped away without hesitation. Coming to rest on her back, she placed her hands above her head on the pillows and invited him with a blissful sigh followed by a smile. As she predicted, Nick mirrored her actions, covering her body with his and clamping his hands around her wrists. In a flash he was back.

Back in control, Nick finally felt his body ignite and after glimpsing the serenity in Carrie's eyes, he consumed her mouth with a demanding kiss. Everything made sense again. Tightening his hold on Carrie's wrists he began massaging her body with his while enjoying the ramping intensity between them. It was perfect, the way it always felt.

"Stop," She directed in a breathless murmur minutes later, clearly catching him by surprise.

Never expecting her to exercise the same option, it startled him. Then he realized what she was doing…demonstrating her point, in an effort to make him get it. And it worked. Suddenly he realized things hadn't been mutual between them …not regarding who was on top more often…but about trust.

In silence they stared at one another, the only sounds the soft music in the background and their pounding hearts. Thirty seconds later, Nick rolled onto his back letting hands rest above his head.

Never moving her eyes from his, Carrie straddled his hips. In her coveted position, she felt a surge of excitement. Unlike before, she didn't feel a decline in his arousal and the knowledge that he wasn't turned off sent her lips curving into a beautiful smile. With her fiancé's attention clearly focused on her body she gathered the silk hem of her chemise in her hands and pulled it up and over her head, letting the shed garment billow to floor. Everything about the move felt empowering.

Visually overwhelmed by his fiancée's curvaceous figure illuminated by the candlelight, Nick whispered, "You look amazing," in between labored breaths. Watching her there looming above him excited and unnerved him.

"I've never loved you more, Nicky. Here…take my hands." Holding hers out she waited for him to take her offer, and when he did, she coaxed him up. Once there she delighted in the feel of his strong arms wrapping around her eager body and she encouraged the passion building between them with a tantalizing kiss.

Sitting in the middle of the bed twined together they eventually paused to exchange brilliant smiles. "Feel the difference?" She queried in a deep whisper. "Are you in control?"

His hand resting on her cheek he answered without hesitation, "Yes."

"Enough that I can take the lead?"

Resting his forehead to hers he released his words and surrendered control. "Wherever you want to go."

She chose to take him to familiar ground, twisting around to fall back against the sheets and letting him land in his preferred spot on top. Kiss after kiss their desire grew until Carrie suddenly angled her hungry body, signaling she was ready for a change. Much to her delight, he took the cue and with her hands firmly planted on Nick's shoulders she clung to him for the 180 degree tumble.

He found her bold move so intense it flared his desire to an extreme. "Carrie…"

His strong reaction to her moves furthered her confidence.

Still struggling with the loss of control, Nick embraced Carrie …encouraging her to do what he would have already done. Straining to meet her mouth, he kissed her, pleading with hislips to join their bodies. When she didn't engage it drove home the point that timing, like everything else right now, was out of his hands. That is, unless he said the one word that would make it all cease, but ceasing the activity was suddenly the furthest thing from his mind.

Experiencing a heightened level of sexuality, Carrie savored the heat she was kindling, not wanting it to end too soon, but barely able to delay the next bold move. It felt so different being in the lead. Now Nick, not she, would be caught off guard by the delicious moment of impact, and she couldn't wait to see the elation on his face.

"Baby, please…" He begged in a show of sweet agony he never experienced before that night.

His vulnerable plea was all it took for her to decide it was time and in one deft shift of the hips she ended their wait. Just as she expected, his surprised reaction sent her reeling. "Any time, Nick…you just say that word." It was a loving reminder to him before she unleashed years of pent up desire and treaded close to the line he asked her not to cross…a line she wondered if he still had.

From the second they united, the pleasure was pure and explosive and every moment following was more of the same. Consumed by the feel of the new position, Nick found himself struggling not to peak too soon.

Knowing he was too close, Carrie slowed down and crashed against Nick's body. "Does it feel…"

"Incredible." Backing his statement with a series of groans and gasps, he gripped her tighter and embraced the unfamiliar. "_Don't_ stop," He pleaded, because teetering on the edge of control, what he had feared most only a short time ago, suddenly fit his mood like a glove.

Powered by his command, Carrie felt the last of her inhibition melt away. Without question she knew she was giving her man something he never had before and the knowledge exhilarated her to a level of arousal previously beyond her grasp.

If asked, they wouldn't be able to say how long the thrill lasted, because they rapidly lost track of time. They lost track of everything except the intensity surging between them…the very intensity that eventually thrust them into a deeper oblivion than ever before. In the end, when Carrie finally collapsed exhausted against her fiancé's heaving chest, she summed up her feelings in a smile brilliant enough to brighten the dimly lit room. What her fiancé had given her a few months ago, she just gave back to him, and in that exchange she knew their souls were bound together forever. Their upcoming wedding would only be a joyous occasion to celebrate the bond they cemented tonight.

Trapped under the weight of Carrie's tired and heated body, with his wrists still locked against the pillows, Nick never felt more in control in bed. Although he couldn't comprehend at the moment why surrendering the lead to his future wife felt so empowering, not to mention incredibly stimulating, he knew one thing with perfect clarity…he couldn't wait to do it again. And his euphoria extended beyond the moment and the pleasure still surging through his body. Finally he had an answer to the question he asked himself so many times over the years… _When will the score finally be settled? What will it take?_ It took the love and patience of a brave compassionate woman to restore the power that a cowardly sociopathic woman once took away. It was over.

When she finally was ready to give up her position, Carrie slipped away grinning. "Is it okay if we don't talk about this right now? Because I'm not sure words could do it justice and I want to enjoy this feeling."

"Hell, I'm flattered you think I could manage a coherent thought after something that mind blowing." Leaning over, he grinned uncontrollably and used a play on her words, "Thank you for bestowing a little knowledge on me, Blake. Without a doubt it was the most intense experience I've _ever_ had and you are, without question, the most _skilled_ woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I love you, Carrie…tonight you gave me back something that's been missing for way too long."

"Um…." After swallowing hard she jittered a little laugh. "If that was you being _incoherent _then all I have to say is…who the hell needs coherency!"

Thrilled by her expression, he cracked a huge grin. "So tell me…are we going to completely break with tradition tonight and take a bath, or do you want me heat up the shower? You're in the lead, you tell me what to do."

"Bubble bath with snacks, please." She giggled. "I'm starving! I'm so hungry I don't even know what I want to eat."

"That's okay." Hopping out of bed he teased, "I'll make sure to bring you plenty of _choices_."

**The Riveria Hotel and Casino  
****Late Night Buffet  
****3:01 a.m.**

With so many choices on the buffet, Tawny and Greg had filled several dishes each and now, forty minutes later, their table in the corner of the restaurant was littered in plates of half-eaten food.

Slouching in his chair, Greg heaved a heavy sigh. "Did I ever tell you that I eat when I'm stressed?"

"Uh no, but I figured it out when your mom visited." Smiling she said, "You're lucky you have a hyperactive metabolism." She stopped talking to take a quick sip of her root beer. "So, are you still stressin' about Lady Heather? I am. It was so weird seeing her snap like that. I know it would seem that she would be a bitch all the time because of the leather and her knack with a whip, but seriously…I've talked to her a lot of times at Cardio Strip and when she was trying to get me to work for her. She's always been kind of cool. And what she said about me tonight was totally true. I had no problem going from bum to bum and getting treated like shit without getting paid when I could have been doing the same thing working for her and driving a BMW by now."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't. Not just because it makes me sick thinking of you getting whipped or stung or whatever I'm sure a great number of men would have paid dearly to do to you…" Smiling through his stress he explained, "…but because we wouldn't have met that night at Tweeters."

"I don't believe that." After dotting his lips with a kiss she grinned. "Hopeful romantic that I am, I believe fate brought us together and it would have happened no matter where I worked. You might have met me working a case at The Dominion, and if you did, I'm sure you would have wanted to have_ tea_ with me instead of Lady Heather." Shuddering she said, "I'm still having a hard time picturing you as her puppy."

"It wouldn't have been the craziest thing I've ever done," He laughed before realizing she'd now probably want to know exactly what he had done that was crazier.

"Don't worry…I'm not gonna ask."

"Thanks." It was a nice relief after a stressful night and another reason to love her. Feeling sleepy, he was ready to call it a night and go home. Unfortunately he didn't leave soon enough.

"Hey, Sanders!" David Hodges called out from the entrance to the restaurant. "We thought that was you and your…_bump and grind girlfriend." _

Under his breath Greg moaned, "Please tell me this isn't happening. What the hell did I do to deserve so much shit tonight? Aren't I a nice guy?" It was Hodges and the same two of his friends that confronted him the last time he took Tawny out for a buffet and as luck would have it, they were on their way over. "Freakin' planetary alignment from hell! I'm starting to think bringing you donuts was a really good thing, because every time we eat breakfast food at a restaurant, these assholes show up!"

"Just stay cool, Greg," Tawny ordered. "You can't afford another tick on your personnel file."

"Hey, Hodges," Greg greeted in a cordial tone. "Buffet was great. Why don't you go enjoy it?" His idiot friends were flanking him and they looked drunk and potentially disorderly.

"Break anyone's nose yet tonight, Sanders?" Hodges inquired, still suffering horrible sinus problems from his snapped schnoz. Craig and Denny had egged him on and he had no choice but to come over and give Greg a little shit. They already were calling him a wimp for not getting Greg tossed in jail or paying for his pain and suffering.

Deciding she didn't have to worry about a tick on her personnel file, Tawny stood up and snipped, "We're not in the mood for company, so thanks for stopping by, but move on!"

"Look who's fighting her man's battles?" Craig taunted.

"Tawny don't give them the time of day," Greg casually commented, trying to practice what he learned in Anger Management. "We're done here anyway so let's go." He got up and threw a five dollar bill on the table. But when he started walking, Craig, at 275 pounds and six feet, blocked him. "Oooh I'm scared," Greg mocked. "Get the hell out of my way."

"You gonna make me?"

Rolling his eyes, Greg snapped, "I'm thirty years old, Dude, this isn't high school. Cut the drama. We're in the middle of an International Buffet which happens to be on casino property. That means we're on camera. You touch me or Tawny and you're facing charges. Now move."

Hodges tapped his friend. "Come on, let's go eat. He's not worth your time." He really didn't want to cause any trouble because his file was flagged too. "Let's go, Craig, you're wasted and not thinking straight."

Stuffing his index finger in Greg's chest, Craig threatened, "You may feel safe now but…"

"Stop it!" Tawny kicked the guy in the shin.

"Ow, Bitch!"

Now Greg was ticked, "What did you just call her!"

"Sorry…I meant Ow **'Ho!"**

"Greg!" Tawny yelled, "Don't!"

And just when things looked inevitably grim, a familiar voice rang out from across the dining room.

"Greg! Tawny! What are you two doing up this late!"

Greg's eyes tracked the gruff voice and when he saw Irving approaching he breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Buddy!" It was nice to have a big friend for a change.

Tawny whipped around and saw her old bouncer friend from her year spent dancing at Rocco's.

Looking down at Craig, Irving said, "You weren't giving my kid sister a hard time, were you? Because I was sitting across the way with my friends and we were thinking it looked like you were giving her shit. Were ya?"

"He called me a bitch and a 'ho, Bro." She quickly joined the charade, one they had invoked on several occasions when customers got out of hand at Rocco's. "And he threatened my boyfriend, Greg."

"That's not good," Irving cracked his knuckles. "What should I do to him, Sis? The usual? Or do you want something special for this loser?"

Having entered the Twilight Zone yet again this evening, Greg wondered exactly who in Vegas Tawny didn't know. Then he worried if she had slept with Irving at some point because that would be squicky.

Hodges grabbed his friend. "Craig was just apologizing for being a drunken asshole. Isn't that right?"

"I'm sorry," He robotically announced as he backed away from the menacing man. "We won't give your sister or her boyfriend any problems in the future."

A second later, Hodges, Craig and Denny scurried away like three unkind mice.

"You two know each other?" Greg asked while Tawny stood on her tip-toes to give Irving a hug.

"Yeah," Irving grinned. "I played her Big Brother nightly at Rocco's when she was eighteen. Damn, Miss Kansas, you look fantastic, which leads me to my next question…what the hell are you doing with this dork!" Tossing his arm around Greg's shoulders he snapped him close and gave him an oxygen-depriving squeeze. "He told me on Saturday that he was expecting a baby with his girlfriend. Now I want to kill him since I realize it's you he got pregnant."

"Please don't," She sweetly pleaded. "I want to keep him."

"Wait here, Sis." Irving took Greg for a stroll past the Mexican buffet. Once out of earshot from Tawny, he began lecturing. "No more gummy bears for you in class, because you're obviously buzzing on the sugar and not paying attention."

Frustrated, Greg explained, "He called Tawny a bitch, what am I supposed to do?"

"Sticks and stones, my friend." Irving sighed. "Guys called her a bitch and a lot worse nightly. She can handle it. People call me lots of things…not to my face…but who the hell cares? Here's a scenario for you. Say the two of you are on the street at night and you let yourself get sucked in by someone who can kick your ass…which is a good percentage of the alpha male population by the way…what happens when you're knocked unconscious? Ever think of that? Now the bastard has access to your woman. He's done raping her in the alley before you even wake up. Use that supposedly fantastic brain Gil says you have. When you can't win a fight, don't get into one."

Holding his now throbbing head, Greg replied, "Hey thanks for putting that 'raped in an alley' nightmare in my already paranoid mind. As if I don't see enough at work to power my nightmares."

"You're welcome." He slapped Greg on the back. "You remember that nightmare every time you want to play hero over something as meaningless as name calling. Next week's Anger Management lecture is on boosting your self-esteem and confidence. I want to see copious notes being taken. Because you've obviously got some residual geek-angst from being stuffed in one too many lockers back in school."

"What was your first clue I had problems in school?"

"Your extremely irritating personality." Irving shook his head. "Now, I know you said you don't have the cash for training but, because you're the upstanding fellow who carelessly impregnated Miss Kansas, one of the sweetest dancers I've ever known, I'm going to make you a deal." Grabbing his wallet he pulled out a business card. "You come to my personal training studio tomorrow afternoon and I'll set you up with a plan you can do on your own. I think you'll get a boost if you feel a little more powerful in your own skin."

Taking the card, Greg nodded. "Thanks, Irving. That's really cool of you. But I'll pay you for the session because I just got a nice deal on rent for the next six months so I've got the cash."

As they walked back to join Tawny, Greg asked, "Why do you call her Miss Kansas?"

"You don't know?" Irving smiled. "Before she ran away she was Miss Cavanaugh County, on her way to the Junior Miss Kansas pageant. Expected to win too. You've got a bona fide beauty queen having your baby, Greg. You must have done something really great in a previous life to deserve that."

Grinning, he retorted, "I'm thinking I must have landed an out of control airplane full of babies, nuns and puppies."

Irving cracked up. "Only if the plane was about to crash into an orphanage."

**The Grissoms'  
****3:21 a.m. **

Climbing into bed wearing her comfy grape-ice matching pajama bottoms and tank, Sara told her husband, "What a way to celebrate our new unified work schedules, staying up late and partying."

"Except you really do have to work in less than four hours and I have the day off because my new job doesn't start until Monday." Gil slid over to meet her in the middle. "And you can't have any caffeine."

With her back to him she waited for his arms and legs to spoon her. "Well, you do have your first personal training session with Irving tomorrow. I'm sure that will be ten times worse than working."

"And I can't even soak in the hot tub afterwards."

Grinning, she wistfully commented, "Go for it. I'm sure I won't need to harvest your seed next month."

Slipping his arms around her he let his hand rest on her belly. After kissing her cheek, he sweetly whispered, "Pleasant dreams, Sara."

"Guaranteed."

**Nick and Carrie's Apartment  
****3:23 a.m. **

Underneath the covers, Nick lay against the sheets with Carrie curled up next to him.

"I'm so tired." On her way to slumber, she whispered, "And we have to get up for church in what…five hours? I think we'll skip."

"Hell no, Darlin'." He pulled her closer. "I actually have something to thank God for after tonight…you. And I want to make if very clear to Him, that I'll do anything to keep you." Kissing the top of her head he closed his eyes. "I can't imagine life without you, Carrie."

"Don't worry, because I'm not going anywhere." Burrowing further into his arms she sighed, "Good night, Nicky."

"Night."

**Riveria Hotel and Casino  
****3:26 a.m. **

As they wound their way through the casino floor, Greg realized he left Tawny's car keys on the table after he said he would grab them. "Ugh. Great." Knowing she was tired, he didn't want her to walk back to the restaurant. Reaching for his wallet he pulled out a twenty and instructed, "Here, play some slots and I'll be back in a few."

"But you know I don't like gambling," Tawny remarked. "It's a waste of hard-earned cash."

"It's my cash from my mom's check so I didn't earn it, neither did she since she inherited all her money from her dad, and it's not really gambling when you know the house always wins. Now you're just donating money while killing time." After a wink he hustled away to retrieve her keys.

**Jim Brass's Apartment  
****3:27 a.m. **

Jim sat on the couch watching CNN, rhythmically stroking Heather's hair as she slept with her head resting on his thigh. Tonight was just another reason on a long list of reasons why he shouldn't want her in his life and yet…here she was. Why? The corners of his lips tipped up ever so slightly as Catherine's words echoed in his _head…_

_When two people are each other's lobsters, it means you're perfect partners and by perfect I don't mean physically. It means you get each other when other people don't. You know what makes your partner tick. It means you embrace each other's eccentricities and you can handle imperfections other people wouldn't or couldn't. Two people who balance each other out. Or in Tawny and Greg's case…two people who are SO MANIC they don't think it's odd to be nuts most of the time. _

**Riveria Hotel and Casino  
****3:34 a.m. **

When Greg approached the area of the casino where he had left Tawny, he heard what could have been her shrieking uncontrollably. "Tawny?" But she was no where in sight. Irving's 'raped in the alley' nightmare still fresh on his mind, Greg felt his heart rate soar. "Tawny!" The night was already so screwed up it only made sense his luck was going from bad to worse. "Damn it! I'm having the worst night!" Gripping his hair he raced up and down the aisles. Did Hodges' friend follow her and grab her, he panicked? Was some jerk hitting on her?

Since it was a Saturday night crowd on a fight night, even though it was almost four a.m. the place was jammed. As he combed the area, he saw a crowd gathered and frantically rushed over, petrified that he'd find her collapsed on the floor losing the baby. "Tawny!"

"GREG!" She shrieked from inside the circle of people.

Thank god she was okay. "Excuse me," He pushed his way through the crowd.

"GREG!" Tawny jumped up and down. "I won!"

"What?" Clutching his chest he began steadying his breathing. "I was scared to death something happened to you and the baby. How much did you win, Sweetie?"

With her index finger she pointed at the flashing _progressive_ jackpot sign. "That much!"

His eyes followed the direction of her finger and when he saw the flashing numbers his heart started pounding again. "$42,617!"

"Can you believe it!" Jumping up and down she gushed like a geyser.

"Are you kidding me! No way! After Uncle Sam shakes you down for thirty percent you'll have about…"

Tawny accessed her mathematical genius. "I'll get to keep $29,832!"

"That's only four thousand less than my pre-tax annual salary!"** This **trip to The Twilight Zone was most welcome by Greg. "This is crazy! I don't believe it!"

"We can buy furniture and pay my tuition and put aside money for the baby in that account you have set up!" Grabbing his hands she jumped some more. "And the best part is…when we go to California you can show your dad pictures of the furnished townhouse and the bank account statement, and he'll believe you have your act together! I mean you do have your act together, but now you'll have proof!"

And as he stood there listening to the bells indicating that Tawny just won over forty grand, while watching his beauty queen – former cheerleader – nimble dancer - dream girl -future wife - mother of his child – drop dead gorgeous – funny and sweet - hottest lover on the planet, _beam with delight_ because she suddenly had the means to make _him _look good in front of his dad, he amended his previous past-life theory...

_An out of control airplane full of babies, nuns and puppies about to crash into an orphanage situated next to a nuclear power plant, which would explode and set off a chain reaction that would cause the end of the world as we know it._

Greg rejoiced as he lifted Tawny into his arms. "I'm having the best night!"

* * *


	8. Wake Up Calls Part 1

**Feasibility Study  
****Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

**Chapter 70: Wake Up Calls**

**August 21, 2005 (Day 121)  
****The Grissoms'  
****6:22 a.m. **

When the obnoxious sound of Sara's alarm clock jolted the spooning spouses from slumber, Sara groaned, "Please tell me it's not time to wake up." Without moving from her toasty position in the comfort of her husband's arms she pleaded, "It has to be a mistake."

His eyes firmly clamped, Gil muttered, "I don't have my glasses on, so you'll have to read my watch."

With a limp hand she turned his wrist. "Damn." It was true. "It was so much easier to get up for work when I didn't have a personal life." Relenting, she tossed the covers and peeled herself away. "Oh." She grabbed her stomach. "Huh…"

Jarred wide awake by his wife's gasp, Gil bolted up. "What's wrong?"

"Cramps." Dropping her head in her hands, she was overcome with disappointment. "I was so sure…"

Always a logical man, Gil pointed out, "You ate a lot of odd foods right before sleeping, maybe that's it. Because you said it yourself yesterday when you had that bout of spotting, that it was too early, right?"

"No, it's lower than my stomach. I know a menstrual cramp when I feel it, trust me." After sliding out of bed, Sara trudged to the bathroom. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

Crashing back against the sheets Gil exhaled and brought a hand to his forehead, giving it a quick massage. Last night he was 99 percent sure she was pregnant because, as a keen observer of biology, he knew bloated hormonal boobs when he felt them.

Sara's doctor said, because of their combined ages, if things didn't work after four months they could explore other options. Although he had hoped it wouldn't come to that, after seeing Sara's heartbreak he was ready to go for it on this next cycle, because after all, money was no object and her happiness was paramount. Immediately he decided that while Sara was at work, he would research the best places and methods…just like he had done when she needed a therapist. That way, when she arrived home he would be able to give her some immediate hope.

"Nothing there!" Sara flew out of the bathroom and pounced on the bed. "I just remembered, Wendy warned me about false cramping. It's another sign!" Straddling Gil she glowed. "How am I going to be at the lab all day and not test my blood!"

"Don't you dare," Gil sternly warned while a wave of relief washed over him. "I'll report you for gross misuse of County funds. Then you'll lose your job and have to stay home tending to your husband's needs 24/7…hey, on second thought."

Cupping her husband's face Sara leaned in for a kiss.

"I didn't hear you wash your hands." He knew she'd flip.

"Oh!" Jumping off him she hurried back to the bathroom. "Foregoing good hygiene practices indicates exactly how excited I was to tell you my news!"

The dream alive, Gil relaxed in bed. "I didn't think the boobs were lying."

**Greg's Apartment  
****6:28 a.m. **

After completing the required W-2G tax document, collecting their $29,832 and celebrating their luck, Greg and Tawny didn't make it home until a little after six a.m.

Still jazzed from the win they found it impossible to sleep, so instead they opted to play Boggle…for real this time. Sitting on the floor at the coffee table the competition began.

Even though he was mentally spent and working on a nasty hangover, Greg had a sneaking suspicion he would win the game. After all, there was no way Tawny was going to let him lose when beating her at Boggle was the first item on his future fantasies list.

When Greg won three minutes later Tawny gleefully strolled over to the desk and grabbed her Algebra notebook. Flipping open to her favorite page she burst into a smile. Since she last checked, he had jotted updates in blue pen…

_**The Fantasies of Greg Sanders - **__**Summer 2005 Edition:**_

_Meet the woman of my dreams – **complete  
**__Fall crazy in love – **complete but falling harder all the time  
**__Say 'I love you' to the woman of my dreams – **complete but ongoing  
**__Hear the woman of my dreams say 'I love you too'- **complete but ongoing  
**__Make love with the woman of my dreams - **complete but ongoing all the time (hopefully)  
**__Have the hottest sex of my life - **complete but always striving for a new personal best  
**__Get a bigger place to live in with the woman of my dreams  
__Bring the woman of my dreams to my parents' home in California  
__Steal and destroy my mother's photo album_

_**Tawny, thank you for making my fantasies realities.  
**__**I only have the last three to complete and there's still time.  
**__**Much better track record than the summer of '92, don't you think!**_

_**The Fantasies of Greg Sanders - **__**Future Edition:**_

_Beat Tawny at Boggle  
__Beat Grissom at poker  
__Get engaged  
__Get married  
__Become a dad  
__Be a great dad  
__Buy a hamster for my kid  
__Get a really nice house for my family  
__Have a second baby with my wife ( if it's okay with her)  
__Take Grissom's job when he retires (and be even better at it than him)  
__Continue having hot sex and making love with my wife until the day I die  
__Never stop being quirky and funny no matter how tough my job or life gets  
__Live every day to its fullest  
__Live happily ever after with my wife  
__(I'm sure I'll add more, but I think this is a good start)_

_**I honestly have no idea when any of these things will happen but…  
**__**I can't imagine enjoying any of them without you in my life.**_

_**I love you, Tawny.  
**__**Greg Sanders, Chemist-CSI-Visionary**_

"Greg!" Ecstatic about the additions, she rushed over and plopped in his lap. "When did you sneak this stuff in here?"

"When you were in the bathroom yesterday." He stole a kiss as he cradled her in his arms and leaned back against the couch. "Which narrows it down to about twenty-five opportunities."

"I know! It's getting worse every day." She remarked in a surprised tone. Grabbing a pen from the coffee table she handed it over. "I believe you have some more fantasy updates to make." Thrilled with the level of progress, she watched him scribble.

_Get a bigger place to live in with the woman of my dreams – **complete and we can afford furniture too!**_

_Beat Tawny at Boggle – **complete (but she let me win)**_

Laughing at his last remark she confessed, "I guess I should have written more than five words to make it seem like I was trying." Then she realized something horrifying. If he worked each list in the order in which they were written, she was NEVER going to be his fiancée. "How the hell are you EVER going to beat Grissom at poker!" She blurted, hoping she didn't show her cards.

"I don't have to go in order," He assured her, knowing exactly why she was freaking out.

"Oh." Relieved, she jumped up from his lap to return the notebook to the desk. While she was there, the telephone rang and she grabbed it, noting the name on the caller ID. "I think it must be your dad calling from his cell, because it's his name but not your parents' home phone number."

"You have my parents home phone number memorized?"

Walking over she extended the ring phone. "Remember…I'm good with numbers." She giggled, "Oh, and your mom calls me every day to check on the baby."

"Of course." Taking the phone from her hands he cleared his throat and greeted, "Greg Sanders, responsible citizen and vigorous tooth brusher isn't available to take your call right now, he's either a) saving the world or…b) flossing."

"Very funny, Son."

"Oh dad, it's you." He silently laughed with Tawny. "What's up?"

"I know you're probably on your way out the door for work but…"

"No, I have the day off." As soon as he said it he knew in his gut it would come back to bite him in the ass.

"Really?" Scott's elated voice sailed through the phone. "Because I'm in Vegas. I got a call from a colleague in a bind asking if I would sub a presentation at a conference tomorrow morning on the Novum Dental Implant Procedure. I know it's short notice but, I was hoping to stop by and see you and meet Tawny. Your mother can't stop talking about her."

"Uh…" In spite of being up for twenty-four hours, Greg was suddenly wide awake. "Sure. Great. We uh…can't wait to see you _today_."

Tawny's mouth dropped open as she mouthed…Today! Oh my god! I'm not ready for this! OH! OH!

"How about I swing by around ten, visit for a while and then take you kids out to lunch?"

"_Ten_?" He glanced up at Tawny and saw her head was about to explode. Frantic, he covered the phone and heatedly whispered, "I have no choice! He knows I'm not working! And if I say no then he'll think I've got something to hide!" After a deep breath he uncovered the phone. "Ten sounds great, Dad."

"See you then. Bye, Son."

When Greg clicked off the phone both he and Tawny started yelling random thoughts. "Ten!" He frantically exclaimed. "We haven't slept in a day!"

"The apartment's a mess!" She shrieked.

"I'm nursing a serious tequila hangover! Do I look like shit!"

"YES! I can't believe he just showed up in town!"

Frustrated, he hung his head. "It's SO like him to pull this kind of stunt. Why didn't my mother warn me! Wait she did leave a voice mail on my cell but I didn't check it. Why didn't I check it? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

"Greg!" Tawny finally yelled, attempting to restore some sanity. "We need a plan. I'll clean the kitchen, you clean the living room."

"Okay."

Tawny raced to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "And we'll need to go shopping because all we have to drink is…oh no...I…"

"What is it?" Greg asked while picking up his sneakers from the middle of the living room floor.

"Moldy cheese in the fridge!" Tawny shrieked as she fled to the bathroom. "Morning sickness!"

And as he listened to his _secretly _pregnant significant other wretch violently, Greg wondered exactly what time in the morning does morning sickness end? Because if it wasn't over by ten, both he and Tawny would look like they had been on all-night benders and that would impress his dad about as much as going a month without flossing. "Sweetie? Feeling better?"

When she answered with another round he took it as a no.

**Catherine's House  
****7:46 a.m. **

When Lindsay entered the kitchen, she was relieved to see her mom and Warrick looking alert and reading the newspaper, instead of partied out. Upon hearing about the event at Grissom's house she warned them not to get drunk and stay up all night fooling around because they promised to take her to church this morning. "Hey…thanks for not being hung over and passed out," She announced while opening the fridge.

Without taking her eyes off the newspaper, Catherine calmly replied, "We are hung over, Sweetie. You just can't tell because we popped some uppers and washed them down with espresso."

Warrick shot her a look. "Nice."

Lindsay laughed. "I know she's not serious, Pops." With a carton of orange juice in hand she went to the cabinet. "I'd rather have you guys be able to tell me the truth about drugs and joke around, than be like Tara's parents. They act like nothing exists…drugs, sex, porn. Uh HELLO? One stroll down The Strip and you're offered all three. As totally annoying as you are most of the time, Mom, I'm glad you're not delusional and stiff."

"Awww." Catherine lowered the paper. "I love you too, Honey. I love you so much that I'm willing to risk my life walking into a church for the first time in almost thirty years. Do you have any idea how painful lightning bolt burns are?"

"And don't forget…" Lindsay took a seat at the table. "…at the Youth Group picnic afterwards you might get attacked by a bunch of little old ladies who can recognize fornicators a mile away."

Lowering the Sports page, Warrick playfully tossed a piece of toast at the teen. "How many times do I have to tell you that your mother and I are just platonic friends?"

Grabbing the entertainment section of the paper she rolled her eyes. "If you want to keep up that charade, I suggest soundproofing your bedroom in the new house, so you don't wake me up at night when you're bonding_." _

**Nick and Carrie's Apartment  
****7:56 a.m. **

A year ago, if someone had asked Nick Stokes if he would be waking up extra early on a Sunday morning to cure his tequila hangover so that he could be presentable in time for church services, he would have laughed his ass off. If someone asked him last week he would have laughed too…just not as loud because he wouldn't want it to get back to Carrie. But if someone were to ask him this morning, his reply would be a resounding, _Hell yeah, because I'd do anything for my future wife, the woman who rocked my world last night and made me a new man!_

So after only a few hours sleep, Nick responded to the horrible sound of his ringing alarm clock, crawled out of bed and threw his weary ass in a cold shower. After that, he marched like a zombie in boxer shorts, out to the kitchen and whipped up a batch of the strongest espresso he could muster. Then, along with a bunch of aspirin and a piece of toast covered in peanut butter to coat his stomach, he downed it all.

After sitting mindlessly in front of the TV for a while, watching scores zip across the bottom of the screen too fast for his sluggish brain, he realized he should wake up Carrie so she would have enough time to get ready…and so they could kiss each other thoroughly before heading out for church.

Returning to the bedroom, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and gently shook her. "Carrie…time to wake up." He took a second to fall a little further in love then prodded, "Darlin'…it's morning. Well technically it was morning when we fell asleep but…" When she didn't respond he shook her harder. "Honey, you're not gonna be happy if you don't have time to debate which shoes to wear, so you need to wake up."

A groan worthy of a wounded animal was the only reply.

"Hey, now." He poked her repeatedly. "Time to get up. Your nieces and nephews will be ticked if we don't show up, because we promised we'd be there for the picnic, remember?"

"Too…tired," She moaned. "I'll buy them each something expensive and make it up to them. Going back to sleep now."

"What! Hell no!" He lifted her petite t-shirt covered body like a rag doll. "I purposely got up and sobered up, and if I did…you are."

"Nicky…where are you taking me?" She grumbled while he tossed her over his shoulder. "Put me back."

"Sorry, Darlin', I'm back in control this morning," He laughed while heading for the shower. "And you need to wake up and get your ass to the chapel on time. Think of it as good practice for our wedding day." While holding her with his left arm, he turned the shower to cold with his right hand. "This is your wake up call." With that he stood her under the freezing water.

She fumbled for the controls while jumping. "OH! OH! OH!"

Grinning he teased, "Funny...that's what you were sayin' last night too."

Turning off the water she pushed her wet hair off her face and timidly remarked, "In the pool house? I can't believe I got so carried away. I'm so embarrassed."

"I'm not talkin' about the pool house." He winked.

"Then what are you talking about?" Gasping she exclaimed, "No! Tell me we didn't have sex twice at Sara's!"

"You don't..." Disappointment flooded his face. "I'm talking about when we got home last night."

Turning her eyes to the ceiling she said, "I don't remember anything after the drive home. Whoa…there's a sign I drank too much wine, huh?"

His voice was distant. "I can't believe you don't remember."

"Sorry, Honey. I'm sure whatever happened, you were great and I enjoyed it." As he started to skulk away, Carrie said, "Wait…I do remember one thing that happened last night after we got home."

"What?" He waited for her to say…you watching Sportscenter.

With a devilish glint in her eye she bestowed a little knowledge on him. "Outrageously passionate, mind blowing, life changing, totally liberating and undeniably fantastic love making, which made me see stars and scream your name repeatedly at the top of my lungs. I do remember that. I recall you mentioning you enjoyed it a little too."

"You!" He flipped on the water once more. "Lying is an abomination! And I'll be making you repent for it after church, sinner."

"Oooh!" She turned the water from cold to hot. "I guess that means I'll be playing the Naughty Girl and you'll be the Good 'Ol Boy who shows me the error of ways." Not only was she saying it, now she knew she could get into it.

Stepping inside the shower with his boxers still on, he grabbed her from behind. "You know it, Bad Ass Blake. Now, how about I give you a little preview?"

**Ely State Prison  
****8:17 a.m. **

In his claustrophobic cell, Mike Rodgers lay on his cot in his orange jumpsuit staring at the open King James Bible he was holding in his hands. He wasn't holding a Bible because it was Sunday. No, he cracked it open seven days a week, several times a day. As a matter of fact, he was so devoted, he could quote scripture and verse on the spot.

A lot of cons find religion in the confines of prison, so it wasn't an unusual sight to see even in the solitary confinement block, where the prison's worst or most endangered inmates were housed. Mike was in solitary because he was an ex-cop. Criminals don't like hanging with cops on the outside and keep their distance. But on the inside…criminals were in the majority and a veteran of the force was a prized target.

So it was that Mike was kept locked away twenty-three hours a day and isolated from the general population…a group who would love the opportunity to teach him a lesson or two daily and eventually once and for all. Since the day he arrived he was a model prisoner…never caused trouble…always followed orders…asserted his innocence whenever he could, to whoever was there…and praised the Lord frequently in front of as many people as possible.

"Alright Rodgers," Prison Guard Brad Diego called from the door. "You ready for your ounce of sunlight today? Or are you in the middle of praying for your salvation again?"

Lifting his eyes from the open book he coolly replied, "I'm praying…I'm praying real hard." Mike's cold eyes drifted back to the two pages…both shielded with newspaper clippings his brother had sent him…one from the Las Vegas Journal-Review's front page and one from its community section.

Every day he read those headlines and the articles beneath. He read them for motivation and then he let his brilliant and evil mind drift…

_**Gil Grissom and his wife of eight days, Sara (Sidle) Grissom were reunited just after four p.m.**_

_**Announcing the Engagement of Nicholas Stokes and Caroline Blake** _

"What passage are you reading?" Diego asked as he unlocked the cell.

"A little something from Leviticus." Mike snapped the good book closed. "One of my favorites."

**LVPD Crime Lab  
****8:32 a.m.**

With no calls to go out in the field, Jas and Sara were in the layout room analyzing several articles of clothing from a re-opened case and enjoying the music from Sara's CD player. Sheryl Crow was on at the moment and if Greg were here, Sara had no doubt he'd be busting her chops about nailing her penchant for 'Lilith Fair Rock' at the party last night.

"Sara, I heard Nick mention yesterday that your birthday is coming up soon," Jas commented while jotting measurements. "When is it exactly?"

While taking a measurement she politely replied, "September 16th, but please don't worry about buying me something if that's why you're asking."

"You can't stop me." Jas broke into a smile. Having wanted to give Sara a gift, for being such an excellent mentor, now she had the perfect opportunity. Working for Nick was pleasant but at times he was too controlling and not willing to let her work independently. Sara, on the other hand, would set her up and let her work, all the time being available but never intrusive. That's what made Sunday Jas's favorite day at work…Sara was the boss, not Nick, and now with the addition of Greg providing comic relief, it was perfect. "Any special plans for your birthday, Sara?"

"Anything has to be an improvement over last year," She absently blurted.

"Why? What happened on your birthday last year?"

Sara looked up from the sweater she was staring at and summarized. "First, my now-husband, totally ignored the day and pissed me off. Then I had to process the rape and homicide of a teenage girl, which always gets to me. While at the scene, Nick introduced me to and set me up with Mike Rodgers…who I know you've heard of by now. Like the desperate fool that I was I agreed to go out with the rapist and murderer, who eventually attempted to rape and mostly likely murder me in Tahoe. So you see what I mean about anything from there would have to be up?"

"Oh yeah." Jas shook her head. "Even pulled weeds bound with duct tape from your husband would be a winner after that birthday from hell."

Laughing Sara said, "Exactly. But I'm hoping for more than pulled weeds just the same."

Dropping her pen, Jas said, "At least the birthday nightmare story had a happy ending, right?"

"Yep…" In a relaxed tone, she confirmed, "Gil was brilliant, cracking open the case so it could go to trial, Wendy Blake was a great witness for the prosecution, Nick was outstanding presenting the forensic evidence to the jury, and after their 1-2-3 punch, the guilty verdict rolled in quick. Now that bastard Rodgers is rotting in prison for the rest of his life."

"If only you had a time machine," Jas joked. "You could have said no to the date and spared yourself that entire trauma."

"Wouldn't change a thing." Grabbing her clipboard Sara smiled. "Because if all that hadn't happened, I'd be living in San Francisco listening to Lilith Fair Rock and puking up angst, instead of being happily married. Same goes for Gil…well, he'd be listening to depressing Classical music and living here. Wendy Blake wouldn't have justice for herself or her dead sister and…Nick wouldn't have met his future wife at the trial, which means I wouldn't have Carrie as a friend. Maybe even Greg and Tawny wouldn't have met." She shrugged, "Anyway, the point is that all the good stuff is tied to the bad guy so…hey, did you ever see that movie, Sliding Doors with Gwyneth Paltrow?"

"No." She snapped off her latex gloves to get a fresh pair. "What's it about?"

"It shows the impact on one woman's life based on whether or not she catches her train. You see what happens to her if she catches it and you also see what happens if she misses it. Based on that one element, her life is drastically different." Sighing Sara looked at Jas. "In my head I can visualize what life would look life if I declined Mike's invitation, and none of us are as happy. So in that respect…I'm thrilled to have met the bastard. He was a catalyst." Feeling the spasm of another cramp she broke into a bright smile. "And I love the results his chain reaction caused. If he knew how much happiness he brought all of us, he'd be outraged." Her smile widened. "The pissed-off, Lilith Fair Rock Lovin', uber-feminist bad ass, who has no use for men who abuse women _loves_ knowing that."

**Desert Springs Church  
****9:10 a.m. **

After pulling into the church parking lot, Nick parked his Xterra in the furthest spot possible.

"Why are you parking so far away?" Carrie inquired while noting the plethora of closer spaces.

Turning off the ignition he smirked, "Because I wanted to kiss you, but since we're not married yet, I didn't think the old church ladies would approve." Leaning in he whispered, "Seriously I can't get enough of you today. And I'm not just talkin' kissin'…although I've certainly enjoyed every one." Stroking her cheek with the back of his hand he confessed, "I know this sounds a little crazy but…this morning I feel like I thought I'd feel when we woke up together for the first time after our wedding."

"It's not crazy…I know exactly what you mean." Her smile was as glorious as the sunny summer day. "Even though I really couldn't imagine either one of us backing out of the wedding, I guess deep down I was concerned because we've moved so fast. But after last night…" Leaning in she rested her forehead on his. "…I can't imagine anything but forever for us, and after the intimacy we shared, I couldn't feel closer to you."

With love drowning their eyes, they eased into a tender kiss, savoring it until an obnoxious pounding on the passenger side window interrupted them.

"Aunt Carrie's sucking Nick's face off again!" Ryan Blake screamed as he pointed at the SUV. "Isn't that against the law at church?" He asked as he opened the car door for his aunt.

Sean gave a little laugh. "Thou shalt not embarrass yourself in the church parking lot, Aunt Carrie."

Holding baby Ashley, Wendy finally caught up with her boys. "I told you to leave them alone that they'd join us when they were ready."

Ryan laughed from his belly. "Oh, Aunt Carrie looked ready! And I know what I'm talking about because I saw _the movie_ at school."

"Very funny," Carrie grabbed her jokster nephew. "Shut your pie hole you little prankster, or I'll tape it shut."

Sean quickly pointed out. "Isn't that verbal assault, Aunt Carrie?"

"Sean, are you going to be a lawyer or a Criminalist?" Carrie laughed, "Actually you'll probably be able to juggle both."

Nick finally joined the group laughing. "Who is she assaulting? She's being a very bad girl lately."

Paul finally arrived with five year-old McKenna holding his hand. "Uncle Nicky!" She tore over to meet her favorite guy.

"How's my Kenna Girl!" He held out his arms, scooping her up and sending her cascading blond curly locks flying in the air.

"Do you like my new dress, Uncle Nicky?" She giggled from his tickles. "Sean says it's covered in coke in nellidays."

"What?" Nick set down the bubbly girl and stared at her white dress embroidered in red ladybugs. "Coke in nellidays?"

Sean stared at the confused muscle head. "Coccinellidae…it's Latin for ladybug, but I guess you don't know that because they probably don't talk about it on Sportscenter."

"Hey!" Nick pointed at his future nephew. "Did Grissom tell you to throw that Sportscenter line at me?"

"Yes." Sean beamed with pride. "I've just been waiting for the right opportunity."

Holding McKenna's hand in his left, he tossed his right arm around Sean while they walked towards the church building. "Here's some valuable information, man to man…bug talk didn't win over a girl for Grissom until he was 48, so I suggest looking for a little balance in your life unless you want to be your own date every Saturday night. Don't limit yourself. Just because you're a brainiac doesn't mean you can't be cool too. Why not be a double threat. You've already got the smile for it." And just as he was about to offer a suggestion, Nick saw a sight that made him freeze in his tracks.

"Nicky?" Carrie asked when she saw the shocked expression on his face. "What are staring at?"

"I must have swallowed the tequila worm last night, Baby, because I'm hallucinating Catherine Willows walking towards the church holding Warrick's hand. What the…" He shook his head and when they were still there he shouted over, "Brown and Willows! Are you sure you want to risk going inside?"

Stunned to hear their names being shouted by a familiar voice, they turned and glanced across the parking lot. "Unbelievable…" Catherine groaned. "We're never gonna hear the end of this."

As Nick approached he guffawed, "What the hell are you doing at church?"

"Nick said hell at church!" Ryan reported. "Mom, that word is on the list."

Lindsay smiled at Sean. "Hey, Bug Boy! You didn't tell me you were friends with Nick. That ups your cool factor a little, which is good because you pretty much depleted it with all the bug talk on Wednesday."

Nick stared at the boy and then leaned in for a whisper. "See…learn about bugs from Grissom, but come to me to learn about girls. I'll introduce you to my friend Greg. The guy was a dork his whole life, but he came to me for coaching last year and turned it all around. Trust me, when you meet his girlfriend, you'll start listening to me."

"That's the kid I was telling you about," Warrick whispered in Catherine's ear. "The mini-Grissom."

"Wait…" Sean thought about what had just happened. "Did a girl just choose to talk to me _first_ instead of my brother? That's quite remarkable."

And while Catherine and Warrick were talking to Carrie and introducing her to Lindsay, Nick whispered in Sean's ear, "Don't let the lady know you're surprised she talked to you, Buddy. And in the future…opt for _that's cool_ instead of _that's quite remarkable_, unless you're hittin' on an English Lit professor, then you can break out that line, as well as any poetry you've happened to memorize. You're a science guy, this should be easy…it's all about _adaptation_. Know your target audience and choose words to fit the girl."

Always an attentive student Sean nodded. "Noted."

Once again Nick whispered, "Don't say noted, say, _got it_, and look authoritative when you do. Helps to do a sharp nod and narrow your eyes a bit."

"Got it."

"Much better." Trying to give the kid a break Nick asked, "You want me to introduce you to her?"

"That would be…" Sean caught himself. "…cool."

"Hey Linds…" Nick flashed his best smile. "I'd like to introduce you to a one of the coolest guys I know. Don't let the bug talk fool you, he's got it goin' on…my future nephew, Sean Blake. Sean…this is Lindsay Willows, my friend Catherine's daughter and a righteous softball player."

"Softball?" Sean smiled. "That's…really cool."

With baited breath, Sean's family intently watched his first public exchange with a girl.

"What sports do you play?" Lindsay asked.

Knowing the boy played chess and that's about it, Nick jumped in. "He runs." It's an easy one to fake, and would also explain the boy's gangly physique.

Unfortunately Ryan chimed in as well. "Yeah…he runs…as fast as he can so he doesn't get his butt kicked by the jocks at school."

Paul grabbed Ryan by the arm. "Let's go see if everything is set up for services. I'm an usher this week."

Sean looked to Nick for a recovery line. But help came from a different source…

Catherine tossed her arm around her daughter. "Forget it Linds…if Sean is the next Grissom, he's way out of your league, trust me. Why do you think I had to end up with Warrick?"

Nick and Warrick exchanged knowing glances while they thought the same thing. Yeah…nothing makes a chick want you more than thinking she can't have you.

And while Lindsay was staring at Sean in a whole new light, Catherine smiled inwardly as she thought…if this kid is a mini-Grissom, then I'm not going to have to worry about this relationship getting out of hand for at least five years.

Nick gave Sean a nudge and mouthed…_the smile._

When Lindsay saw the boy _her mother _told her she couldn't have, flash a million watt smile, she knew one thing for sure…Josh was history. "Hey, Sean, wanna sit with me?"

Sean glanced up at Nick who gave a subtle negative shake of the head.

"Maybe some other time, Lindsay," Sean politely replied.

"Uh…okay." Surprised that he declined she followed up with, "See you at the picnic later?"

To which Sean replied with the suave of a condescending intellectual, "Of course you will, because the church field is only three acres, so it would be impossible not to see me unless you suffer from myopia and aren't wearing contacts this morning. Got it?" He paused to smile. "Cool."

Nick cringed, realizing they would need to work on the delivery because Sean just went from dork to ass in a matter of minutes.

"Whatever!" Lindsay huffed as she grabbed Warrick's hand. "Let's go Pops."

**The Grissoms'  
****9:24 a.m. **

When Gil answered the phone and heard his father tell him he was back in town, he breathed a sigh of relief. Not because he was happy to see Ron again so soon, but because he promised Sara he'd be back to meet with her and Nick about B-PAC. Now Sara wouldn't be disappointed.

After exchanging customary pleasantries, Ron eventually asked, "I was wondering, would you be interested in taking a look at a property I'm thinking of purchasing. You know…I don't know the area as well as you do and it's a big investment so…"

"Uh…" He checked the watch Sara gave him, which reminded him of two things…the time and Sara's love. "As long as I can keep my appointment at two with my personal trainer. If you saw the guy you'd know why I don't want him to be ticked at me."

"The realtor is at my beck and call so you name the time."

"How about I swing by about eleven? Are you at the Mandalay again?"

"Yes and eleven is perfect. We can have lunch afterwards."

Pursing his lips he debated calling Ron on the manipulative assumption, but quickly shook off the idea. "Fine. See you then."

After hanging up he decided he may as well get some mileage out of his discomfort so he phoned Sara.

"1-800-I'm in the layout room and Jas is within earshot."

A smile found his lips even though he was tense. "I'm still satisfied from last night so I don't need any services. I called to tell you about some spontaneous plans I made this morning."

"Spontaneous…now there's a word you don't often hear associated with us."

He laughed lightly. "And after last night's new associated words …party hosts and social, one has to wonder what the world is coming to."

"No kidding. So tell me your plans."

"I'm picking up my dad and he's going to show me a property he's considering purchasing. Then we're having lunch."

"He's back!"

"Yes, he is." Hearing her excitement he was happy he had agreed to the plans. "Honey…are you still feeling okay?"

"The only blood evidence is on the sweater."

"Nice code in front of Jas." He smiled wider. "Great. I'll call you after lunch with my father."

"I'll be waiting impatiently to hear what a civil time you had."

"Nice subliminal. Love you."

"I concur."

**Greg's Apartment  
****9:37 a.m. **

While Tawny recovered from her untimely first bout of morning sickness, Greg managed to clean the apartment, stow all items his father would categorize as frivolous purchases for a young man who should be focused on building a nest egg, hide everything baby related, and go to the grocery store for snacks and drinks.

On his way back from the store, he stopped at Starbucks and ordered an espresso double-shot for the trip home. It was a fine line…he didn't want to appear exhausted from partying all night, but he didn't want to be so hyper it would irritate his dad.

After parking his Z, he made a quick stop to grab the mail and when he did, he couldn't believe his luck. With the mail under his arms and three grocery bags in his hands he hustled across the apartment complex and rushed inside his apartment. "Tawny!" On the counter, he dropped the bags and all the mail except the large white envelope and hurried to the bedroom.

"Oh my god, is he here early?" Tawny shrieked when she saw Greg's frantic expression. "Do I look okay?" She specifically selected the outfit Mrs. Sanders said her husband would love most.

"You look great!" Grabbing her he slobbered a kiss on her lips. "And my dad's not here yet. But look!" He pulled the papers from the envelope. "I'm being published! My first time! Could this timing BE any better? I can show my dad." Waving the papers he explained, "Grissom encouraged me to start writing and submitting, so I wrote a paper on using current PCR DNA technology to solve cold cases when evidence is degraded. I used the infamous Mike Rodgers trial as my primary example because of the mold that had grown on the jacket with the blood evidence. It's going in a forensics journal next month."

Tawny threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so proud of you."

Returning the hug, he closed his eyes and let her ego-boosting words echo in his head.

"Greg…" She removed the papers from his hand and laid them down on the bed. "…we need to celebrate this later because your dad is going to be here in fifteen minutes and even though you showered, you still look horrible." Taking his hand she led him to the bathroom. "Time for some Dermablend under those eyes, Baby." Closing the toilet cover she instructed, "Welcome to Salon Tawny."

Sitting on the toilet he chuckled, "Just don't put any eyeliner on me because that really ticks off my dad."

"And you know this how?"

"Uh…it was just an experimental phase I went through when I realized it would tick off my dad."

"Oh." And as Tawny applied the super strength eye-bag blocking make-up she wondered exactly what other kinds of phases Greg might have gone through in his life…especially ones that would potential freak out his dad. "Everyone goes through little phases. Yeah…I uh…used to dye my hair a different color sometimes. It's cool."

"Just ask me," He blurted knowing exactly what she was dancing around. "Because I know what you're thinking…and it's not like you'd be the first person to wonder."

Stopping the make-up application she inquired with slight trepidation, "Have you um…ever kissed a guy, Greg?"

"Oh…that's not what I thought you were going to ask." The combination of the espresso and the question made him tap his hands on his thighs. "I thought you were going to ask me if I ever _slept with_ a guy."

"What's the difference?" Then it dawned on her. "Oh…you've never slept with..."

After a brief hesitation he shyly shared the details. "I didn't kiss him, he kissed me. It was a real wake up call too, because I thought he was straight. When it didn't do anything for me, I had to tell him...you know…I'm flattered, but it's not going to happen."

"Did you say it like that?" She knew personally that no one likes to hear that message after taking a risk.

Cringing he recalled the awkward aftermath. "I don't remember exactly what I said because I was pretty trashed, but I definitely know wasn't a jerk about it. It was obvious he was really uncomfortable and it's not like I'm a homophobe. I didn't flip out. I said something like…no harm, no foul, let's move on, and assured him I'm not the kind of guy who exploits people's secrets. I told him it seriously didn't bother me because guys have approached me before and when I declined it was business as usual."

"But the guy didn't react well even though you told him not to sweat it?"

"Not at all." Shaking his head Greg explained, "It was a big risk for him because he wasn't out. When he realized I wasn't up for it...he got upset and even accused me of leading him on. Then I started feeling guilty thinking… considering where I was, and what I was wearing, and comments other people had made about me that maybe it really did seem that way to him."

"Comments? Oh, because you didn't deny stuff people said about you?"

"Right. I mean, I never got nuts when people made cracks about me swinging both ways, because I lived in San Francisco for years, it's not like being gay seems abnormal to me, it's just not for me personally. And getting riled when someone makes a crack, makes it seem like you're hiding something or, that you're vilifying the lifestyle. So I just let it roll off. I don't know. The bottom line is, the whole thing was a mess and it didn't have to be. Then it started to tick me off that he was making it seem like I was being…whatever, it was four years ago…yeah okay…I'm shutting up now." He cringed again. "Are you totally squicked? Is it worse for you than the Lady Heather leash thing?"

"Hell no." Smiling she assured him, "I kissed girls all the time on stage to get the guys tipping big, and the first time, it didn't do anything for me, so I know exactly what you mean." She started reapplying the cover-up again. "It either clicks or it doesn't. I thought it was kind of cool to find out for sure." She giggled. "About myself…and especially about you just now because like I told Irving, I want to keep you…and not share you." Checking her own appearance in the mirror she remarked, "It was hilarious watching the guys get all hot and bothered over me kissing a girl, when it was doing nothing for me." About then she realized Greg was still stuck on…_I kissed girls all the time._ "Are you hoping for me to bring home a friend one day, Greggy?" She looked at him with a glint in her eye. "Even though it didn't make your list, I know it's every man's fantasy."

He stammered. "No…I…what would make you…"

"I'll be more than happy too," She enticed him in a seductive tone.

"Uh…"

Closing the lid on her make up she informed him, "Right after you kiss Irving for me…a nice deep one."

"Irving's gay?" It was surprising to hear because he didn't get the vibe from him, then again he didn't see that kiss coming four years ago either.

Laughing she strolled out of the bathroom. "No…so what does that tell you about the probability of me bringing home a friend for a play date?"

"I was going to say no!" He followed her into the bedroom. "I'm like a swan…monogamous and I mate for life. Oh…I suppose the delicate swan imagery doesn't help my tough guy image much." He chuckled. "See how I set myself up. But did you know that male swans are very aggressive when it comes to protecting their mate and their offspring? Vicious in fact. And they take a primary role in building the nest instead of leaving all the dirty work for the female. Oh, and this is the best part, they have elaborate bonding rituals including…"

"Stop talking." She held her head. "You're like a train going ninety miles an hour."

He jittered as he entered the room. "I uh…had an espresso double shot on the way home."

"Only a double?" She was thinking quadruple.

"My dad's impending visit of potential doom has me a little tweaked too."

"Really? You're hiding it so well." When she reached Greg's closet she opened the door. "Now let's find you something conservative to impress your daddy." She searched the rack and pulled a solid royal blue button down. "You can keep the jeans but wear this with the sleeves rolled."

"That's my court shirt." He pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it on the floor. "Totally fitting since I'll be interrogated."

Helping him button she teased, "Hopefully your dad won't ask you if you ever kissed a guy."

"Don't worry, I have noooo problem lying to my father." Winking he confirmed, "It's just you I feel insanely compelled to be truthful with at all times. I think it's because I know you've been lied to by every man in your life…your father excluded of course. That knowledge triggers something in my brain that makes me tell you the truth even if it's a _really stupid idea_."

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Okay, who's ready to be judged and lectured?" Thrusting his arm up he joked, "Me! Me! Pick me!"

Tawny grabbed his hand. "Breathe for me." And while he did she said, "Good boy."

Feeling better he started walking with her out of the room. "Okay, let's go introduce ourselves as Mr. and Ms. Happily Dating Responsibly and Not Expecting a Baby."

**Desert Springs Church  
****9:58 a.m. **

Pleased that she had been inside the church building for nearly thirty minutes without hearing thunder rumbling in the distance, and since the pastor hadn't mentioned the phrases eternal damnation or hellfire once, _so far_, Catherine eased back in her pew and focused on the sermon.

Even if she couldn't glean anything from it personally, she figured there might be something in there she could tease Nick with later. Glancing across the way to where Nick was sitting she noticed he had fallen asleep. So had Carrie. A devious smile crept over her lips as she thought…all that fornication in the pool house will do that, you horny sinners. Now she would be able to tease them with anything because they wouldn't have a clue about what the pastor was preaching…

_Oftentimes people use the Bible to fuel their cries of hypocrisy within Christianity. I don't hold it against them. Interpreting the Bible is a right I feel we all have. And Christians and non-Christians are both guilty of selecting verse to prop their arguments while not considering the historical or contextual significance of a passage. _

_For instance…Leviticus 24, versus 19 and 20 are often used to contradict the compassion of Jesus. "If anyone injures his neighbor, whatever he has done must be done to him: fracture for fracture, eye for an eye, tooth for tooth. As he has injured the other, so he is to be injured." _

_Now to some that sounds like a call for unchecked revenge, but in reality, it's no more than a suggested way to handle disputes equitably. Here's an example, a thief steals a farmer's sheep…this passage would dictate that the thief must make restitution by providing a new sheep to make things right rather than encouraging the farmer to do bodily harm to the thief. Back in the day, this passage prevented the chaos of taking justice into our own hands. Our earliest civil lawsuits if you will. I'm sure if our congregation member, Carrie Blake, from the DA's office was awake and listening, instead of sleeping in the fifth pew on the right, she would concur. _

Catherine's hands flew to her face when she laughed out loud.

"Mom!" Lindsay elbowed her. But then she realized everyone in the building was laughing AT Carrie and Nick.

"What?" Carrie snapped at her brother Paul for shoving her. "Why is everyone laughing? Did I miss a joke?"

Paul happily informed her. "No…_you were the joke_. You were asleep and the Pastor pointed it out. Look at your fiancé…he's still sleeping."

And the Preacher followed up with a tease for the couple and another good laugh for the crowd. "I'm sure they were just up late planning their wedding."

Catherine turned to Warrick. "Okay…I like this guy! This guy is much better than the used to be at my mom's old church. That guy didn't snark and humiliate the audience. Oh yeah…this I can handle."

* * *


	9. Wake Up Calls Part 2

**Feasibility Study  
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT**

**Chapter 71: Wake Up Calls – Part 2**

**August 21, 2005 (Day 121)  
****Greg's Apartment  
****10:00 a.m.**

With a vice grip on Greg's left hand, Tawny nervously waited for him to open the front door.

"Dad!" Greg excitedly greeted his father who was wearing, not surprisingly, a pair of crisp khakis and a polo…pale yellow was today's color of choice. He also noted the large white shopping bag and a bouquet of daffodils in his hands. "This is great. So glad you could stop by while you're in town." Almost immediately his stomach started to churn.

"You look great, son," Scott remarked and really meant it. Greg was dressed normally, his hair styled with a modicum of gel, and best of all, he looked happy. "And this must be Tawny." It was immediately apparent to him that his wife had downplayed the girl's beauty and most definitely the size of her chest. "These are for you, Dear." Handing her the flowers he smiled, quite impressed with his son's taste in women…and relieved once more that it was a woman, and not a man, holding his son's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sanders." Taking the flowers she paused to sniff them. "Thank you, they're beautiful." She didn't know what shocked her more, how much he really did look like Dennis Quaid's slightly older brother, or that he didn't give off the scary, intimidating vibe Greg foreshadowed, but rather a very personable one.

"No need for the formality," He warmly replied. "Just call me Scott."

"Okay." Releasing her grip on Greg's hand she strolled toward the kitchen. "I'll put these in some water."

"Come on in, Dad." Greg moved to the side so his father could enter. One step into the apartment and he noticed a distinct increase in his body's tension. "What's in the bag?"

"Two things from your mother; a bag of your favorite coffee…Kona Diamond Reserve, and…" Reaching in, he pulled out a box. "Krispy Kremes!" He laughed. "She wanted me to prove to Tawny that I could promote tooth decay just as well as the next guy."

Taking the box Greg laughed, "Yeah…gotta love mom…." When you don't want to strangle her! "…for always adding her special touch." He put the box on the counter.

In the kitchen, Tawny giggled, never quite comprehending why Greg was so upset with himself over the donuts. Watching TV and munching on Krispy Kremes in bed after the lovin' was exactly the kind of relaxed intimacy she always craved, but never had from a guy. "There." She set the vase on the counter and started to unpack the grocery bags Greg had left strewn there. "Would you like something to drink, Scott?" She sweetly inquired while Greg escorted his dad to the tidy living room devoid of all things baby-related or frivolous.

"I'd love a glass of ice water because damn it's hot out there." Taking a seat he inquired, "Have you ever been to California in September, Tawny? Because I think you'll enjoy the change in weather when you come to visit."

"I've never been there actually," She answered while pouring water over a tall glass of ice. "Originally that's where I was supposed to go when I…" A nervous smile twittered across her lips. "…moved from Kansas after high school, but driving through, I liked Vegas so much I stayed."

"I bet my son is grateful you did."

Standing in the living room waiting for her Greg nodded. "You bet." When Tawny arrived he kissed her cheek. "Right from our first date we had special something cooking, and shortly thereafter I knew we'd be in it for the long haul."

She smiled at the veiled baby reference while handing Greg's dad the glass.

Scott couldn't help himself. "You have a gorgeous smile, Tawny. Do you whiten regularly?"

"Yep! You get bigger tips when you have a million watt smile."

"Tips? Oh, right, Bev did say you're waiting tables while going to college." Scott paused for a sip then asked, "So…tell me everything. How did you two meet? Your mother has been so busy lately prepping for the new school year she's barely told me anything."

That's when they realized they should have spent less time cleaning the apartment and more time formulating a story.

Greg jumped in with a variation on the truth, substituting Tawny's day job for Tweeters. "We met at The Cheesecake Factory, where she works. Grissom took me there and we bumped into her."

Tawny taunted her donut-bringing lover. "The second he saw me _at work_, even though I was dressed in my _uniform_, he was enamored, isn't that right, Greggy? And when he spoke, I was instantly attracted to him."

Wrapping his arms around her from behind he sighed, "Luckily, for once in my life I knew exactly the right thing to say…"

_After completing their business at Tweeter's, Grissom pulled Greg aside. "Okay…like I said earlier, because you saved Sara's life last week, and because you're so pent up you're giving me a headache, I'll give you five minutes to talk to her while I pack up the truck." Eyeing the salivating lad cautiously Grissom added, "Remember…don't touch her or give her money because you're on the clock." _

"_Noted." Chomping at the bit Greg asked, "And you're sure the lines you told me to say will work, because they sound really stupid to me." _

"_But you're not the audience." Grissom cracked a knowing smile. "Based on my experience with her at The Cheesecake Factory, I'll stake my professional reputation as a profiler on it. If you don't think it's enough then use your wounded puppy-dog look that gets Catherine to give into you when you need something, because Tawny strikes me as a dog lover…definitely not cats." _

"_Of course not…she's a bird." Greg laughed along with his boss for a moment. "Okay." One giant inhale and exhale later Greg announced, "I'm going in." Jonesin' for a female fix, he really hoped Grissom was right. _

_When he approached the buxom blonde covered in metallic glitter and dressed only in a g-string made of gold feathers he felt his pulse rise along with his desire. After just completing a lap dance, she was strutting through the room toward the locker room. "Uh…excuse me…Miss…Tawny, right?" _

"_Is there something you'd like, Cutie?" She postured boldly in front of him. "Because any friend of Gil Grissom's is a friend of mine, just name it." _

_In wounded puppy mode, he quietly replied, "No, I just wanted to thank you on behalf of LVPD for your cooperation in our investigation. That's all." _

"_Why so glum, Chum?" Dropping her bravado, she sweetly asked while reading his name off the ID badge around his neck, "Somethin' got you down, Greg Sanders? You looked a lot happier when you came in here earlier. It usually works the other way around." _

"_Uh…well… yeah." He shifted nervously while dropping Grissom's lines with a few add-ins of his own. "My ex-girlfriend was a stripper so being here is kinda rough." Looking at Tawny he let the desperation build in his eyes. "I loved her something awful, but she dumped me because she thought I was too sensitive. You know...I liked watching romantic movies…like Pretty Woman. I thought my generous trust fund would have been enough to keep her around, but I guess money doesn't matter to some women." And with a puppy-dog expression that would have made Catherine fall to her knees, he delivered the last part. "I've been really lonely and being here isn't helping." _

"_Awww, your Ex sounds like a first class bitch. A sweet guy like you doesn't need an insensitive chick like that in his life. You should be happy she hit the road." Tawny flashed a friendly smile. "You're way too cute to have to settle or be lonely, Greggy. What time do you finish your shift?" _

"_Seven," He replied optimistically. _

_Grabbing a cocktail napkin she asked, "Got a pen?" _

"_Yeah." Reaching inside his eggplant-colored jacket he grabbed one and handed it over. _

"_Only because you're with LVPD and a friend of Gil Grissom's do I trust you enough to give you my address." She jotted it quickly along with her cellphone number. "If you want someone to talk to or watch a movie with later, come on over after your shift." Smiling brightly she handed it over. "I hope you will, because I could use a little company too." _

_Accepting the napkin and the offer he beamed. "I'll bring breakfast. What are your favorite breakfast items?" _

"_Krispy Kremes…only glazed original though, and an iced mocha latte." _

"_The girl has good taste." He gushed, happy that things had worked out as Grissom predicted. "So, I'll see you around eight?" _

_After a quick wink she purred, "Eight it is. Somethin' tells me I've been waiting my whole life to meet you, Greg Sanders, and I doubt either one of us will ever be the same after we spend some quality time together." _

_Flustered by the knowledge she would be his for the taking he stammered, "Uh…I'm sure…is it eight yet?" _

"_GREGGO!" Grissom called from across the floor. "We have to roll. I'll meet you outside in sixty seconds." _

"_Sorry, the boss man beckons." Tucking the napkin in his pocket he started walking backwards. "See you at…"_

"_OH!" Tawny shrieked as Greg bumped into a waitress causing the woman to spill her tray of drinks on a Japanese businessman's lap. _

"_Whoa…I'm really sorry. Sorry, Sir. I didn't see the waitress. Sorry!" While the gentleman was cursing at him in Japanese, Greg reached for his wallet. "Do you want me to pay for that?" _

_The bouncer bounded over and announced, "Put your wallet away, the club will take care of it. You just scurry out of here and get back to your lab, rat." _

_Greg was bent down picking up the tray when he heard Tawny giggling hysterically. "Lost some cool points for that I bet. Uh oh…you're staring at me funny. You want your napkin back, don't you?" Reaching into his pocket he sighed, "I knew it was too good to be true."_

"_No, that's not what I was thinking," She sweetly replied. "I was wishing it was eight already."_

"_Really?" Standing up he returned the note to its place in his jacket and smiled. "I…" _

"_SANDERS!" Grissom's voice boomed. _

"_You better go because he's getting really Alpha. Watch where you're walking this time!" Tawny giggled. "And don't forget the donuts! Original for me!" _

"_I won't!" _

Witnessing the affection between them made Scott's lips curve up higher and higher. After watching his son pine for Becca for years, it was nice to see him finally have a girl who appreciated him.

"Greg…" Tawny grabbed his hand. "You have that special surprise to show your dad, remember? The thing you got in the mail. I'll show you where I put it." Tugging her significant other towards the bedroom she said, "We'll be right back."

Once inside the bedroom, Tawny shut the door and threw her arms around Greg's neck. "All that talk about how we met got me remembering how we met!"

"Me too! You know what we had from the moment we met?" Filled with excitement he asked, "What was my major in college?"

"Chemistry!" She shrilled. "And we were oozing it like lava!"

"At the time I was too horny to notice and then later I felt too guilty about feeding you those lines to think about that night, but now that I think about it…I wasn't really lying about much. Except about having an ex-stripper girlfriend who I loved…or a generous trust fund…."

But you have a generous mom with a large checkbook so that's close enough!" Brimming with enthusiasm she told him, "And you really are sensitive, and you really do like watching romantic movies and you really were lonely for someone to share your life with you."

His happiness growing he said, "And you really did want someone to hang out with at home and snuggle while watching TV and…"

"Bring me Krispy Kremes!"

Their mouths met in an urgent kiss as they celebrated the knowledge that they always had something more than a booty call going on.

"Greg!" As things were getting out of hand, Tawny heatedly whispered, "Your dad, remember?"

Laughing he joked, "I'll think of it as payback…he and my mom had sex all the time when I was home in another room, and they were loud. Those two are like rabbits, even now." He grinned. "I'm hoping to emulate that aspect of their marriage in mine one day. Now if only I could find a girl who felt the same."

"Good to know the requirements, in case I'm ever offered the position." Pulling away she retrieved the large white envelope with his good news. "Now, how about I give you a few minutes to bond with your dad over this?"

"Thanks." After stealing one more kiss he took the envelope from her hand and headed for the door.

"Wait!" He had lipstick on his mouth. "Nevermind."

With his envelope of pride in hand Greg sailed into the living room. "Sorry…we were…"

"You have lipstick on your mouth," Scott chuckled. "Your mother and I used to pull that 'we need something in another room' stunt when we were around our folks. Your girlfriend is as sweet and lovely as your mother said, she also said Tawny has excellent fashion sense and I couldn't agree more, that outfit is adorable on her. I'm thrilled to see you so happy in a relationship, Greg."

Wiping away the lipstick Greg realized what Tawny was going to say and why she didn't…she was setting him up for some cool points with his dad. "Happy is an understatement." Then he did a little set-up of his own. "She's the one, Dad. I'm psyched you and mom both like her because she'll be part of the family..."

"I'm not being a kill-joy when I say this." Losing a little levity in his tone Scott cautioned, "It's still very early in the relationship. You're both young, her especially, there's no rush. Take your time and make sure, that way neither one of you end up hurt. Because…"

"Dad…"

"Let me explain where I'm coming from before you jump down my throat." Scott turned to face his son on the couch. "I'm fifty-eight years old. I've seen far too many marriages break up due to incompatibility. I've seen friends rip each other apart in custody battles and almost kill each other trying to sort out who gets the prime timeshare week in Maui. It's horrible. Now, your mother and I really took our time and made sure we were compatible, and look how it's worked out. Sure we have our differences and I know you're painfully aware we've even had a few serious blow ups along the way."

"Over me exclusively, every time." Greg sat deeper against the couch cushions.

"I'm not talking perfection, Greg. I'm talking about the kind of compatibility and respect that will weather the bumps and blow ups. That's what I want for you…a marriage that will last, not one that burns bright for a few years and then burns out. Look at Becca…divorced at twenty-nine after six years of marriage. You won't believe the difference in her when you see her Labor Day weekend. She's turned into a very bitter person."

Recalling how vivacious she always was Greg responded in a deflated tone, "I'm really sorry to hear that."

Scott sighed, "I know I've always had the job of being the heavy when it comes to parenting you, but really, I'm only saying these things because I want you to be happy…not just for a year or six…but to the very end. It's a comforting feeling knowing your mother and I will be there for each other in the golden years." After taking a deep breath he pushed out a smile. "Okay, lecture over. I promise no more for the rest of the visit. And for the record, I'm all for Tawny being _the one._ Your mother's ringing endorsement is enough for me to give mine. And you know your mother…she's already over the top talking about how you two look so good together, you're bound to produce a beautiful grandchild one day."

"Yeah…um…" Digging deep for the courage to break the news, Greg readied to burst his dad's bubble.

"So what's in the envelope?" Scott prodded. "Looks very official."

"Oh…uh…see, I really did need something in the other room. The kissing was just a perk." Anxious to impress the man, Greg retrieved the contents from the envelope and delayed breaking the pregnancy news. "My first paper is getting published next month. It's about using PCR DNA technology to solve cold cases when evidence is degraded. It's cutting edge; before it was impossible and even now it's having some problems standing up in court. That's why they were so interested in publishing my piece. I used the Rodgers case as my example. You remember me telling you about that one, right?"

"Yes," Scott affirmed while he read the confirmation letter. "Congratulations! I'm very proud of you son." Patting him on the shoulder he said, "We're two cutting edge guys…you're publishing on breakthrough technology and I'm lecturing on a state of the art technology tomorrow."

"Finally we have something in common." Basking in his father's approval felt fantastic and Greg's eyes lit with excitement.

Scott's gaze narrowed. "You really think that we don't have anything else in common? Come on, son..."

"Right…there's more…we both love mom and like her fajitas." He laughed. "And…wait, I'm sure something else will come to me."

"We both like oysters," He joined in the laughter. "As a matter of fact, I made a reservation at the hotel to eat at r.bar.cafe. You mother said she tried their oysters when she stayed at the Mandalay and they were very good."

"Great." On a positive roll, Greg decided to broach the baby topic later.

Chock full of pride Scott said, "So tell me more about this paper so I can brag about my published son at the club next week."

Flying high from his dad's enthusiasm, Greg gladly obliged. "When evidence has been compromised because of inadequate preservation, or like in the Rodgers case, discovered unpreserved years after the crime…"

**Jim's Apartment  
****10:25 a.m. **

Standing in front of the stove, Jim busied himself mindlessly scrambling eggs and ham in a pan while Heather finished up her phone call in the living room.

They both fell asleep on the couch the previous night and only woke when Zoe called her mother's cell phone. Once awake he noted three things…a severe headache, a grumbling stomach and an intense appreciation for his lobster.

"Smells delicious," Heather declared when she breezed into the kitchen in her red silk robe. "I'm starving."

"How's your daughter?"

Sighing, she took a seat at the table. "Split with her girlfriend last night. They were together nearly a year. She's okay though. It was mutual. With the new semester starting she'll keep busy and move on."

Sprinkling cheese into the egg mixture, Jim curiously asked, "Do you ever wonder if your frequently verbalized disdain for the weaker male species has anything to do with your daughter being a lesbian?"

Heather chuckled at the amusing thought. "Hell no, if a lack of respect for ninety nine percent of the male population was the determining factor, I would have signed up long ago…and I think we both know I enjoy snuggling up to a man. It's nature, not nurture."

"And not a lack of nurture, which can definitely influence other behaviors."

"No word from Ellie?"

He shook his head as he carried over the pan. "I left her another message last night." He forced a smile. "She's young, she's busy. Why the hell would she want to talk to her boring old man?" He divided the eggs between the two plates on the table. "Enough about that though, I'm too hung-over to want to feel…or think." After returning the pan to the stove, he went to the toaster and snatched the two slices he had browned.

"I'm lucid and have been thinking." Picking up her fork she smiled. "I think it would be best for me to apologize to Sara before you speak with her. If she doesn't have that baggage, I think it will make things easier for you." She watched his reaction as he took a seat. "I meant what I said last night. You're hurting me every day you keep this ruse going, but I take the blame for why it hasn't been easy for you to tell her. Like your drunken friend who hurled on my boots said last night…I was a colossal bitch to Sara. She'll think you insane for wanting anything to do with me."

After swallowing his bite he replied, "Therein lies a healthy chunk of my hesitation."

Resting her fork she adamantly spoke, "I know I have a problem with her, but it's not what you think. I'm not jealous that she has Gil and I don't. Gil and I would never have been compatible over time. It was a pleasant dalliance with no future. And while I think he handled the situation with me shabbily, my animosity toward Sara has nothing to do with his behavior. It's what Sara represents. She's that girl I've known my whole life…the one who instantly has men protecting her and believing in her. Like she's inherently more worthy than me…like my parents felt my sister was so much more deserving of respect than me. I know it's irrational, especially coming from me, someone who proclaims not to need a man…which I don't. It just might be nice to, for once in my life, have a man look at me that way, and be compelled to protect me instead of assuming the worst…even if I would turn around and say thank you, but I can handle this on my own."

In a tender tone he asked, "What makes you think you don't have that now?"

"Lack of opportunity to prove it either way so far?" She tilted her head. "Time will tell I suppose." It was time for deflection. "We've veered from the original topic…your dilemma with Sara."

"Look…I know you want to help, but…" Appreciating the offer he explained, "…I can't honestly imagine Sara giving you the time of day no less five minutes to speak your peace."

"Then I'll write it out and have my written apology couriered to her." Smiling she said, "She's a scientist, her curious mind will force her to read it."

Reaching across the table, Jim gently placed his hand over Heather's. "Thank you. It can't hurt. In return, how about I take you boot shopping later? I'm afraid the tequila infused spew did indeed ruin your best pair. And really, even if they weren't ruined…who wants to be anywhere near Greg's DNA? Speaking of which…" He unfurled a riotous grin. "Now that you've seen Greggo at his best, don't you owe me for denying him _tea_ with you, when you were out to prove something to Sara that night at the dominion? Because I think we both know you weren't going to put him on a leash, but rather leave your bite marks all over him for him to brag about and Sara to see the next day. I had no problem joining the party after Gil, but after Sanders…not a chance in hell."

"When you put it that way, yes, I do owe you." Hiding behind her toast she laughed, "I'll add it to the list."

**Mandalay Bay Hotel  
****Presidential Suite A  
****10:56 a.m. **

"Here you are, Sir." The young man with a nametag that said _Wayne _announced when they arrived at the 38th floor. "Mr. Grissom is in Suite A. There's no need to tip me, he's taken care of me for the week up front."

"Oh…okay…thank you." As Gil exited the private elevator for the Four Seasons Hotel, which occupied floors 35-39 in the Mandalay Bay's tower, he felt his pulse notch up. Last time his father had a regular suite in the main part of the hotel so the jump to the Presidential was a bit of a shock. It had to be at least $2500 a night. While Gil had an inkling his dad was quite well off, he never suspected that he was _this_ well off. Not that he couldn't have easily looked up the information…he just never wanted to know…until now.

At the door, he decided to pause for a minute and collect his thoughts, but before he could wrestle with the first one, the door to the suite flew open. "Gil!" Angelina exclaimed with excitement. "I'm so happy to meet you. Your father has told me all about you. He's on a business call." Shifting her weight to one hip she rolled her eyes. "I know, it's Sunday and he's retired so how can that be? I'll tell you how…because he has an incompetent man running the show for him in Atlanta, when he should have promoted Darlene Reynolds. If Darlene was running the show your father could play a lot more golf."

"I'm sorry…" Gil gaped at the spirited woman who he guessed was in her late 50's, with her black hair piled whimsically on top of her head, wearing a loud flowery blouse, a white skirt, modest heels and a lot of gold jewelry. "…who are you?"

As she huffed she turned to shoot Ron a look. "Guero! You didn't tell him about me?" When she saw he had just ended his call she continued her tirade. "Nice going old man! Your son probably thinks I'm La Puta Nueva!" She returned her irritated brown eyes to Gil's confused blue ones. "I'm not young enough or blonde enough to fill that role…and I'm much too smart." Extending her hand she introduced herself properly. "I'm Angelina Maria Cruz Valera, your father's savior…also known as the head housekeeper and chef. I keep his world running and remind him to tie his shoes. Please…come inside."

"Oh…" Gil processed the information quickly. "Nice to meet you. He did mention you in several conversations, but not your name or description."

Ron hurried over to meet them in the center of the living room. "Sorry I couldn't provide a proper introduction. Angelina will be relocating with me to Vegas. That's why I got the Presidential Suite this time…so she could have her own wing, just like at home in Boca."

Stepping inside the six-thousand square foot suite Gil marveled at the décor. "Sara would love this," He remarked as he took it all in. "Rich wood, warm tones…overstuffed sofa and chairs. It's her cup of tea."

"Then you should bring her by soon." Ron grinned excessively. "Ready to go see my future digs? Lina, would you…"

"Already did." She headed for the bar. "The limo driver is waiting downstairs." At the bar she grabbed two bottles of cold water. "Drink these on the way down in the elevator, it's hot out there."

"We don't need to take your limo, Dad," Gil countered. "I can drive."

"The limo isn't mine. The realtor sent it. She'll be offended if we don't arrive in it." He gently slapped his boy on the back. "Relax…a little indulgence doesn't hurt."

Angelina choked on her laughter as she handed over the bottles of water. "But a lot of indulgence gets you a foot long scar on your chest eh, Guero?" She knew her eyes were showing more than she wanted a smart man like Gil to see, and yet she couldn't help herself.

His eyes bright, Ron looked at Gil. "I love how she keeps me grounded in reality. Not a day goes without her reminding me of my previous life as a raging asshole. You should see what she says to me when a young buxom blonde walks by…Lina didn't care much for the third Mrs. Grissom. She has a special term of endearment for her as a matter of fact."

"Speaking of walking." Angelina strolled over to get the door. "Tick tock. You have to view the property and get back here for lunch. You don't want to eat too late because Gil has an appointment to keep at two, remember? I'll have a nice light meal waiting for you. Have a nice time."

In a deep observation mode Gil quietly followed his father to the door and once they were alone and halfway down the hall his curiosity got the best of him. "Are the two of you a couple? Because it seemed rather…"

"What? Lina and me?" Ron shook his head vehemently. "Unfortunately no. She's way too smart, and knows far too many horrible and ridiculous things about me to ever be interested. Besides…she works for me. That's never a good idea."

Gil's face exploded into a smile. "Sometimes it works out."

At the elevator Ron asked, "What did you think of her?"

"Honestly?" He chuckled heartily. "The knowledge that she calls you out daily for being a raging asshole in your previous life made me an instant fan."

"I had a feeling you'd find that her most endearing quality."

**Desert Springs Church  
****11:10 a.m. **

Standing on the field outside the church, Carrie and Catherine watched their guys, who were now wearing their picnic clothes, playing volleyball with Ryan and Lindsay as well as a bunch of other church members. "So Catherine…" Carrie felt it was time to drop the bomb. "In a drunken confession, Greg told me it was you who ratted out Nick and me about the pool house."

"Fornicator," She snapped before laughing. "Maybe you could have stayed awake in church if you weren't going at it all night."

Leaning over, Carrie happily informed her nemesis, "We found evidence of another incident in the pool house that night. We swabbed it, we're testing it…and you're going down. Nicky and I only took out a couch cushion. Your evidence was found on the carpeting. Our germphobe friend Sara will probably want it replaced."

Hands on her hips Cath squawked, "What, did you go out there with the ALS and scan the area?"

"Yep." She cackled.

"First time I've really liked you, Blake." Catherine eyed her with pride. "You've always been a little too stiff for my taste, but now that I know you like a good romp in the pool house as much as the next girl, and that you're capable of taking and giving shit, I think we have a brighter future." Softening her expression she added, "Plus it's blatantly obvious that you're making Nick happier than he's ever been so…I'm glad you're around."

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."

"Did I ever tell you I made a bet with Sanders that day in the courthouse when you and Nick met? Yeah, the second I heard the part about you getting death threats in relation to your prosecution of that case in Seattle cracking down on some wacko church group molesting kids, I bet Greg a hundred bucks you'd be engaged to Nick by Christmas. I never thanked you for that. I bought a blouse with it."

"You had inside information about Nick that Greg didn't," Carrie informed her through a smile. "Not exactly a fair bet."

"I'm old-time Vegas…I'm not too proud to stack the deck."

"I'd be more willing to turn the other cheek if you had bought shoes instead of a blouse."

Just then McKenna approached sniffling and wiping her tears.

"What's wrong, Sweetie?" Carrie knelt down to look her in the eyes.

"Uncle Nick forgot all about me."

Catherine gave the girl a sympathetic nod. "You're not the first girl to shed a tear after being forgotten by your Uncle Nick, I'm sure of it."

Shaking her head at the joke, Carrie took her niece's hand and stood. "Where's Sean? I thought he said he'd play catch with you?"

"He's tied up in the park across the street." She sniffled harder.

"That's not nice. What's he busy doing?"

Staring at her aunt she explained it again. "Nothing, because he's playing with some boys and they tied him to a tree and he can't move."

"Nick!" Carrie shouted in a frantic tone. "I need you!"

Warrick turned to his pal and said under his breath, "Whatcha gonna do, man? This place doesn't have a pool house."

Laughing, he gave his buddy a shove. "You're standing on church grounds, 'Rick. Watch your mouth." Jogging away he joked, "There's always the bathroom at the convenience store across the street! Do you think that's out of lightning bolt range?"

Lindsay glared at Warrick who was still laughing at his friend's dirty joke. "I heard that." Then she screamed. "OW!"

Having watched her get nailed in the head with the volleyball, Warrick teased, "Thou shalt not eavesdrop! That ball was a wake up call from above." Giving her a playful shove he laughed. "Now, Linds…how many times do I have to tell you to keep your eye on the ball at all times? Hey…look who's laughing at you on the other side of the net." Feigning his best teen girl shriek he yelled, "Oh my gosh, it's JAKE!"

Turning red she groaned, "Pops…you're on my last nerve today."

"You reminded me of your mother just now. You're turning into mini-Cath."

"Don't you dare say that!" She shrieked, horrified by the thought that she was anything like her mom.

Across the field, Nick approached smiling. "Hey, Kenna Girl." He scooped her up. "I told you I'd be back after the game."

Catherine snarked, "Yeah well, maybe she heard about your reputation on the street and didn't put much stock in it." Then she felt Carrie's glare. "Bad time for a joke. Sorry, it's my coping mechanism."

"It's not McKenna, it's Sean I'm worried about," Carrie informed him. "She says he's tied up in the park across the street. Can you go check it out? Paul is inside the church with the pastor getting stuff ready for lunch and Wendy is busy changing Ashley."

Instantly concerned he said, "Take Kenna and I'm there."

Snatching the girl out of her fiancé's arms she hugged her tight while watching Nick dart toward the busy street. "I can't believe you crossed that street and walked over here alone. What did I tell you about wandering off? A stranger could take you and hurt you. Promise me you won't do that again. Promise me!"

Catherine placed a hand on Carrie's back. "Hey, now…go easy. I know where you're coming from, but you're scaring her."

When she realized her niece was sobbing she soothed, "Sorry, Sweetie. Aunt Carrie is scared, not mad." Gently she kissed the top of her head. "Sorry."

Meanwhile, across the street Nick spotted Sean on the ground in a remote area roped to a tree. "What happened?" He asked while rapidly scanning the area. "Who did this? Are they still here?" Bending down he worked quickly to undo the knots. "Was it someone from youth group?"

"No," He groaned as his head hung in embarrassment. "Jocks from school came by and started razzing me. I didn't even say anything to annoy them _this time_." Free from the ropes he shook out his hands. "Hey…you did that fast."

As he uncoiled the rope from around Sean's body Nick explained, "My big brother had a wicked sense of humor. When I was seven, he and his buddies used to tie me up and leave me in different places on my parents' ranch. Then they'd leave a note for the housekeeper sayin' they'd tell her where I was only if she made them cookies and left them in the tree house. Unfortunately for me, the housekeeper was the youngest of nine kids growing up and she thought it was hilarious too…like she was getting some kind of vicarious payback. The best part…sometimes she baked the cookies, and sometimes she wouldn't."

"She doesn't sound like a very responsible employee."

"Yeah, well…I never had a lot of luck with people my parents hired to watch over me. Housekeepers, babysitters…but it was a different time back then, people trusted others a lot more. Now though, forget it. When your aunt and I have kids I'm running background checks worthy of the CIA, let me tell you. Full psychological profiles, the works. Wackjobs need not apply."

"Mean people suck." Sean leaned against the tree. "I know that's a bad word, but right now I don't care."

"I won't tell."

"So that's how you learned how to untie knots so fast?"

With the rope gathered in his hands he affirmed, "It happened enough that I had plenty of practice trying to free myself. Turns out most people who aren't sailors or devout boy scouts can't tie a good knot…not one that lasts if you know what you're doing to break out. Here's how I got their little game to stop." A smirk jumped up on his face. "One day I freed myself and left a note saying I'd been kidnapped…left it right where my brother had left me. Then I hid so I could watch for him." He started laughing at the happy memory. "So my brother eventually comes looking for me and sees the note. He freaks out…totally flips. Because even though he was an ass to me ninety-nine percent of the time, he loved me. So he's screaming and his friends beat it home knowing the shit's gonna hit the fan…sorry, bad word."

"I won't tell," Sean quipped, finally feeling a little better.

"Thanks." Grinning, Nick continued the story. "My brother rushes into the house and I'm trailing him real stealthily. The unscrupulous housekeeper starts having a nervous breakdown because she has to call my mom at work and tell her what happened. After they confess on the phone to my mom, I pop up and yell…that'll teach ya! Then I grab the phone and tell my mom what's been goin' on."

A slight smile appeared on Sean's face. "So what happened to the housekeeper and your brother after that?"

"The housekeeper was given her walking papers ASAP, and my brother was grounded for a month including no sports, which just about killed him. Later of course he beat the crap out of me, but it was worth it because he missed qualifying for the state championship little league game and his team ended up winning." Grabbing his cell phone he announced, "Let me call Carrie real quick because she was worried." When she answered he said, "Everything's fine and, Honey, let's keep it quiet over there. We'll be back soon." Then he tucked the phone away.

"Thanks for telling her to keep it quiet."

Taking a seat next to the embarrassed boy Nick empathized, "I know you think I'm a jock…" He saw the boy's eyeroll. "Rephrasing…okay, I am a jock, and yes, I watch Sportscenter…but I watch the Discovery Channel too, just so you know. Being a jock doesn't define me. Do you really believe your aunt would marry a guy who had nothing else going other than sports? And what about Grissom? You think he'd promote me to supervisor if I was just the brainless jock you seem to think I am?" He shook his head. "Sean, you only see me when I'm decompressing from my job. After a long week I tool around because my mind needs a break. And I'm sorry, I know I'm guilty of spending a lot of time with your brother, but you have to meet me half way. Every time I'm around, you hole up with a book. It's been easier for me to connect with Ryan because he…"

"Never thinks and loves tossing balls." Sean covered his mouth. "Sorry."

"Yeah…I know you like learning about bugs from Grissom, but I gotta tell you, there's a lot of other stuff you should learn from him too. He's taught me so much over the years and I'm not much of a bug guy. For instance, he's the least judgmental person I've ever met and in that respect I wish I could be more like him." Nick calmly pointed out, "You don't like people pegging you as a geek because you like to read a lot, right? Well then, you shouldn't go around thinking a guy who loves sports isn't anything more than a vapid jock. Even in your brother's case where all outward evidence points to that conclusion." He grinned. "By the way, I tossed vapid in there because I thought it would impress you that I knew the word."

Sean smiled, enjoying the first bonding moment he ever shared with his future-uncle, compared to his brother who had dozens already. Making sure he included the authoritative nod he announced, "Got it."

"Nice." Pleased with the comfort level building between them Nick continued, "Anyway, my point was, I'm a jock _now,_ but, I know what's it's like to be the picked on kid. I know what it's like to feel bullied by someone bigger and stronger than you, trust me, I can empathize. It sucks…to use your foul mouth language. So you can come to me with this stuff without feeling embarrassed, okay?"

"Okay." Sean, finally getting past the rope incident, chuckled. "Think you can show me how to undo knots in case I'm ever in this position again? Maybe give me lessons on…wait, just so we're clear…only if you won't tell my dad about it. He has enough to worry about with his new promotion and taking care of mom and us kids. With all the business travel, he's really stressed out. And what's the point, he'll just feel bad and overcompensate and then my brother will get jealous and take it out on me…well, you know all about what brothers can do to you, so let's keep this between you and me."

"Sure, that's cool." Nick grinned when Sean did the same. "And yeah, I'll bestow all my knot knowledge on you, as well as a few more tricks…some easy self-defense stuff that doesn't take two-hundred pounds of ripping muscle to pull off." Placing a hand on his shoulder he continued, "But not right now, because your aunt is waitin' and worrying." As they stood he commented, "This part of your life, although it's as annoying as hell when it's happening, it's just a drop in the bucket. It'll pass. My friend Warrick had a rough time of it when he was your age and look at him now. You think a lot of people give him crap?"

"Not too many, no." Sean grumbled, "See…sometimes I wish I could disappear and come back when I'm grown up…preferably at a height of six four, with shoulders and biceps worthy of intimidating most people."

"All in good time." Nick threw his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Besides, if you disappear, you might blow your shot with Lindsay."

"She hates me," He grumped. "Mr. Grissom told me I should come to you for advice on girls, but when I listened to you it didn't go so well."

"First off, don't worry about the hate thing…that's often an excellent place to start." Nick chuckled. "I'm sure you've heard the phrase, there's a fine line between love and hate." As they headed out of the park he began a new lesson. "I think I gave you just enough information to be dangerous earlier, so now I'll start at the beginning. And I'm giving you Nick Stokes version 2005, in case anyone, like my friend Catherine, tries to point out prior deficits in my relationships with women."

Hoping all hope wasn't lost with Lindsay, Sean was all ears.

"Rule number one…respect girls at all times. You have two sisters. You wouldn't want them treated badly by a guy, so why treat someone else's sister badly? Besides…you never know if the girl has a brother who could pound you into the ground."

"Did that ever happen to you?"

"Coincidently, right before I came up with rule number one."

**Elite Properties Limousine**

**11:18 a.m. **

When the limo pulled up in front of the magnificent four million dollar estate, Gil stared at his father. "This is what you call a house?" The Presidential Suite was jarring, but this was a wake up call of epic proportion.

"It's smaller than my one in Boca," He rationalized before laughing. "I have to keep Lina in the style she's accustomed to or she might leave me."

When the driver opened the door Gil followed his father out while trying to shake the surreal feeling of the situation.

"Mr. Grissom." The realtor, Ann Peters, a vivacious blonde sixty-two year old, rushed over with a cheery smile and an outstretched hand. "So glad you decided to take a second look. And is this handsome man the son you were going about?"

"Yes, my son, Gil."

"I recognize you from the news," Ann recounted. "You're with the crime lab, right?"

"Yes." Gil shook her hand while staring at the large ceramic lions guarding the entrance to the property. "Nice to meet you."

Waving the men to follow she said, "Gil, since you're with LVPD, you should be intrigued by two features of the home…it has a hidden panic room as well as an indoor armor plated rifle range."

Glancing at his father Gil sarcastically remarked, "Gee…I wonder who owned this house? And I wonder why he pulled up stakes so fast he's selling it furnished?"

Ron weighed in with his theory. "I bet the owner was a raging asshole his whole life but suddenly reconnected with his estranged son and now that he's been graciously given a second chance to be a part of his boy's life, he's selling this estate to relocate closer to his son and daughter-in-law."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Sounds a little far-fetched. I would think he'd at least wait and see if things worked out before making such a permanent change."

Ron smiled. "Don't read anything into this but, I'm not selling my Boca property. It's not that I'm planning for failure, the accountant said I needed to hold onto it for tax purposes. I figure I'll use it as a vacation home and leave it in trust to my grandkid or grandkids, depending how many Sara eventually gets out of you."

Just as Gil was about to blow, the realtor announced in a sunny tone, "I'll wait in the kitchen for the two of you. If you have any questions, just use the intercom that's wired throughout the house."

"Thank you," Ron nodded. "Come on, Gil…I can't wait to show you the lagoon pool."

Once outside Gil voiced his concern. "What do you mean you'll leave it in trust for your grandkid or grandkids? I don't want my kids _given _this place. Do you have any idea what becomes of kids who are spoiled with this level of wealth? I've seen enough of them dead from OD'ing in penthouse parties…no thanks."

"You think every child of privilege fills their nose with coke and sleeps until sunset?" Ron chuckled, "You're stereotyping. Anyway…like I said, I'll leave it in trust. The terms are negotiable. I can make them earn their Master's first, whatever you want. Or I can leave it all to you and you can do what you do best…give my money to the charity of your choice. I'm not going to push this on your or your children if that's what you're concerned about. Okay? So can we relax and just look at the place? Come on…I'll show you the game room."

"This is insane." Gil muttered as he entered the marble foyer and took in the opulence. Overwhelmed, he looked for some humor in the situation and much to his relief he quickly found something. "I can't wait to rub it in Catherine's nose that my daddy is richer than hers. She'll hate that."

As Ron led the way he mused, "Great party house. If you ever want to have your friends over, just say the word."

While trying to comprehend the enormity of his father's fortune he joked, "I don't know, they're kind of picky. Does it have a pool house?"

**Big Bill's Grill  
****12:22 p.m. **

Standing at the counter waiting their turn, Sara and Jas perused the menu on the wall.

"What are you getting?" Jas asked since she was torn between the vegetarian grilled sandwich and the Caesar salad.

Salivating, Sara answered in a dreamy tone, "Santa Fe Chicken sandwich."

"Chicken?" The answer shocked the fellow vegetarian. "But…"

"I started eating it last week." She beamed. "Out of the blue."

"Could you be pregnant?" Jas inquired.

"What makes you think that?" Sara hoped the answer would fuel her suspicions.

"Because my vegetarian cousin started craving beef for the first time in her life right after she conceived. And you know cows are off limits in my culture. When my uncle busted her sneaking a burger, my relatives sleeping half way across the world in Bombay woke up from his scream."

"Whoa."

"Then she told him she was carrying his first grandchild and it was a boy." Jas shook her head, "The hypocrite took her out for a steak dinner that night citing it was necessary to preserve the future generation."

"Next," The clerk shouted.

Grinning, Sara gleefully placed her poultry order. "Santa Fe chicken sandwich combo, please. Oh…and a pickle."

* * *

_Next Series Installment: Losing It_

_Thanks for reading and commenting! _

_Maggs _


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